Polis and Politics: Studies in Ancient Greek History 8772896280, 9788772896281

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POLIS & POLITICS

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Photo:

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Sine Fug (Nordfoto).

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POLIS & POLITICS Studies in Ancient Greek History

Presented to Mogens Herman Hansen on his Sixtieth Birthday, August 20, 2000

Edited by Pernille Flensted-Fensen Thomas Heine Nielsen Lene Rubinstein

MUSEUM TUSCULANUM PRESS UNIVERSITY OF COPENHAGEN 2000

Polis & Politics © Museum Tusculanum Press 2000

Cover design by Henrik Maribo Composition by Ole Klitgaard Printed in Denmark by AKA Print, Aarhus

ISBN 87 7289 628 0

Cover: The abduction of Helen, after a drawing by Mr. Gillieron, published by S.A. Koumanoudis in Ephemeris Archaiologike 1884 [1885] figs. 5 Aa & Bb, of the relief on a late-third-century BC Megarian bowl from Tanagra (Athens, National Museum 2104). On the back cover: Theseus and Peirithoos taking Helen by force toward the city of Korinth. On the front cover: Helen, now more docile, travelling with Theseus and Peirithoos from the city of Korinth to the city of Athens; both cities are shown with

freestanding circuit wall rendered in perspective with city buildings rising above. See further K. Weitzmann, Ancient Book Illumination (Cambridge, Mass.

48; L. Kahil, LIMC 4 (s.v. Helene, no. 47) 509-10, 561.

Published with support from Krista & Viggo Petersens Fond Tuborg Foundation Unibank-fonden

and a foundation which has made an anonymous grant

Museum Tusculanum Press Njalsgade 92

DK-2300 Copenhagen S www.mtp.dk

1959) 43 & fig.

Contents

Acknowledgements

....................................,...

Introductory Flourish JOHN CROOK ........................................... The Sorcerer’s Apprentice MOGENS HERMAN HANSEN Conventions

......

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PART ONE: THE POLIS 1. Physical Aspects of the Polis A Decade of Demography. Recent Trends in the Study of Greek and Roman Populations

MARK GOLDEN

............................,,,..,,......

Walls and the Polis JOHN McK. CAMPI

.....................,.,.,,,.,,4.4,8..

Gortyn. The First Seven Hundred Years (Part D)

PAULA PERLMAN

............................,..,..4....

Ergasteria in the Western Greek World TOBIAS FISCHER-HANSEN

................................

Grenzfestungen und Verkehrsverbindungen in Nordost-Attika. Zur Bedeutung der attisch-boiotischen Grenzregion um Dekeleia PETER FUNKE .... 0.0... ccc ccc eee eee The Frontier between Arkadia and Elis in Classical Antiquity JAMES ROY

2.0.0... ee eee eee ete eee

2. Community Aspects of the Polts Ethnos, Phyle, Polis. Gemäßigt unorthodoxe Vermutungen

HANS-JOACHIM GEHRKE

................................

159

The Synoikized Polis of Rhodes

VINCENT GABRIELSEN

.................................

177

Private Needs and Polis Acceptance. Purification at Selinous WALTER

BURKERT

.......................,..., ss...

207

An Altar for Herakles MICHAEL

H. JAMESON

1...

0.0002.

ce

217

The Meaning of Polts in Thucydides 2.16.2. A Note J.-E. SKYDSGAARD ............................,...,.....

229

What is Greek about the Pois? OSWYN

MURRAY

.........0.. 0.0: νιν ee eee eee eee teas

231

PART TWO: POLITICS IN THE POLIS 1. Political Ideology: Democracy and Oligarchy Zeus Eleutherios, Dionysos the Liberator, and the Athenian Tyrannicides. Anachronistic Uses of Fifth-Century Political Concepts

KURT A. RAAFLAUB

....................................

249

..............,...........,......,.

277

Naked Democracy

STEPHEN G. MILLER

Argos. Une autre démocratie MARCEL

PIERART

......0.. Cocos ccc cee eee

cece

eee eee

297

Democracy, Kimon, and the Evolution of Athenian Naval Tactics

in the Fifth Century BC BARRY

5. STRAUSS

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315

Epigraphic Writing and the Democratic Restoration of 307 CHARLES

W. HEDRICK

PAUL C. MILLETT

...,......,.......................

.... 2...

ce

eee ee ee

ses

327

337

The Old Oligarch (Pseudo-Xenophon’s Athenaion Politeia) and Thucydides. A Fourth-Century Date for the Old Oligarch? SIMON HORNBLOWER

MARTIN OSTWALD

...........

ΝΕ

ere

.........................4.44444.4...

363

385

Boiotian Swine F(or)ever? The Boiotian Superstate 395 BC PAUL CARTLEDGE

....................,........,......,

397

2. Practical Politics “Juges des mains” dans les cités hellénistiques PHILIPPE GAUTHIER ...................................

421

The Phantom Synedrion of the Boiotian Confederacy 378-335 BC JOHN BUCKLER ........................................

431

Back to Kleisthenic Chronology E. BADIAN

.........

sise εν νυν eens

447

Who Ran Democratic Athens? P.J. RHODES

.,..........................4..

EDWARD M. HARRIS

eee.

..................,.................

465

479

Philinos and the Athenian Archons of the 250s BC MICHAEL J. OSBORNE

......................40ce.....

507

3. Athenian Law

Auswahl und Bewertung von dramatischen Aufführungen in der athenischen Demokratie WOLFGANG

SCHULLER & MARTIN

DREHER

...............

523

Living Freely as a Slave of the Law. Notes on Why Sokrates Lives in Athens JOSIAH OBER .....................................,.... 541 Just Rituals. Why the Rigmarole of Fourth-Century Athenian Lawcourts?

VICTOR BERS

..........................................

553

The Length of Trials for Public Offences in Athens DOUGLAS

M. MacDOWELL

.....,.,.........,..,,..,.....,

563

The Basileus in Athenian Homicide Law

MICHAEL GAGARIN

........... ses ee ee eee

569

“Investigations and Reports” by the Areopagos Council

and Demosthenes’ Areopagos Decree ROBERT W. WALLACE ....................,...,....4,..4

581

At Home. Lysias 1.23 ALAN

L. BOEGEHOLD

.................,....,,,.,,,,......

597

The Location of Inscribed Laws in Fourth-Century Athens. IG II? 244, on Rebuilding the Walls of Peiraieus (337/6 BC) M.B. RICHARDSON

...............,.....,...,,.,..,.....

Bibliographia Hanseniana Tabula Gratulatoria

..................................

......................................

601

617 631

Acknowledgements

This volume is intended not only as a present for Mogens Herman Hansen on his sixtieth birthday, but also as a way of thanking him for his significant contribution to the field of Greek history over the past thirty-two years. For

that reason the first person whom we, the editorial team, should like to include in our acknowledgement is the honorand himself. As his former students and present colleagues, all three of us have experienced Mogens’ approachability and enthusiasm at close quarters. Even while still undergraduates we knew that a knock at his door would never be resented, and that he would always be

ready to answer our questions, be they trivial or intricate. As a colleague and director of the Copenhagen Polis Centre he is providing a stimulating working environment,

which

is also full of personal warmth.

One

thing is certain:

working with Mogens on a daily basis may be a breath-taking experience at

umes; but it is never dull. Above all, we should like to thank Mogens for being not only an inspiring teacher, scholar and colleague but also a generous and faithful friend, who is

always there for those who need him. Thus we offer him this Festschnft as a small token of our appreciation of his kindness and unfailing loyalty as a friend. The themes of the present volume, Polis and Politics, represent Mogens’ two

main areas of research; and the wide range of questions addressed by the individual chapters is in itself a testimony to the range of Mogens’ own scholarship. Moreover, the number

of participants in this project reflects Mogens’

qualities as a colleague who, throughout his career, has managed to combine a high level of professional activity with an outstanding willingness to help and

to collaborate with others. doubtedly one important

Mogens’

own

kindness

and generosity is un-

reason why we as editors have been met with a

similar warmth, kindness, and helpful attitude from all the persons who have agreed

to contribute

to the Festschnft in his honour.

All have

been

very

receptive to suggestions from our referees; and we should like to express our gratitude to all the authors, whose collaborative spirit and patience have made the job of editing this Festschrift a very pleasurable one.

Numerous people have offered us invaluable assistance at various stages of the editorial process. We owe our greatest debt to Prof. T.V. Buttrey, Prof. P.J. Rhodes and Dr. M.B. Richardson for their generous support, without which this project could hardly have succeeded. We have also drawn extensively on

the expertise of the following scholars: Prof. A.L. Boegehold, Prof. J. Buckler, Prof. J.M.

Camp,

Prof. C. Carey,

Prof. P.A.

Cartledge,

Prof. J.A. Crook,

10

CONTENTS

forskningslektor, mag. art. T. Fischer-Hansen, cand. phil. R. Frederiksen, Dr. V. Gabrielsen, Prof. M. Golden, Prof. C. Habicht, Prof. W.V. Harris, Prof. S. Hornblower, Dr. S. Isager, Prof. R.P. Legon, Prof. D.M.

MacDowell,

Prof.

J. Ober, Dr. G.J. Oliver, Prof. R.C.T. Parker, Prof. K.A. Raaflaub, Dr. J. Roy, Prof. M. Schofield and lektor, cand. mag. G. Tortzen. We thank them all for their help. We should also like to thank Museum Tusculanum Press, and in particular

Marianne Alenius and Ole Klitgaard. This volume would not have come into being, had it not been for the enthusiasm that they have shown right from the

beginning. Finally, we gratefully acknowledge the financial assistance given by the Krista & Viggo Petersens Fond; the Tuborg Foundation; and a Foundation which has made an anonymous grant. P.F.-]. T.H.N. L.R.

JOHN CROOK Introductory Flourish (vide LSJ’ s.v. χρέμπτομαι)

One day the Elysian Shades discussed The phenomenon of Hansen. “Simple”, said Cleisthenes, “he’s just My x-times great-great-grandson.” “Boloney”, said Demosthenes, And flew into a rage:

“He’s plagiarised, he’s pinched it, he’s Got me on every page!” “And how about Azh. Pol.?” said Aristotle: “The programme of research goes back to me — Or my assistants. Names? I have forgot all.” [How like some modern ordinarii!]

The tone of Pericles was hurt and icy: “To do me justice he just doesn’t try — Says the fifth-century sources are too dicey (Sold on his bloomin’ old nomothetat); And now he’s got the Polis in his sights,

But with this new ‘comparative dimension’, And where we thought we had exclusive rights Aztecs and Mzab come vying for attention.” “He’s right, though”, said Herodotus, “[’ve knocked about a bit, and know:

Mankind, just take a prod at us And likenesses will start to show; Cultures (good word!) often have things in common,

So aineo men myn tonde ton nomon.” Yes, Polis and Democracy

Were pretty good ideas; And our new Hafniocracy Will keep ’em both in stock, you see, For another hundred years.

MOGENS

HERMAN

HANSEN

The Sorcerer’s Apprentice Where the Egyptian sun beats down and heats the desert ground once, many, many years ago, an old, poor peasant found a little leaf with scattered blobs of ink, all torn and brown; the text, which on it was discerned, in Greek was written down, so neat, though in a very sorry state of preservation; but soon the papyrologists gave their interpretation:

O! hear the distant thunder the world awaits a wonder ... On the papyrus recently from desert sand recovered some lonely letters here and there are easily discovered;

the problem of lacunae...? Hush! you know our science’s blessing: if there are words you cannot see, they can be read by guessing. A Hellenistic love-song soon upon the fragment shows; its author was a gifted man; this any scholar knows! A modern poem, if it suffered such a molestation, would hardly be the object of an equal celebration. But ancient poets need not fear lest time their skills conceal,

for just some single letters can their genius reveal. With dedicated energy Parnassus is a-glowing, from learned inkwells streams of ink for learned pens are flowing: In a Festschrift seven pages push research to further stages,

and in fourteen new editions learned men expound their visions but their texts are, as expected, in a thesis soon rejected, then the thesis is berated

and the problems complicated by the scholarly polemics and discussions on poetics. One scholar, as he scans the verse, suggests an emendation. Another wants to change the date for new interpretation.

14

MOGENS

HERMAN

HANSEN

A third deletes a line or two in utter desperation.

A fourth would like to introduce an altered punctuation. A German (doctor seven times) in 1893 took up the problem when he made a new discovery

one night as he was strolling on the heights of inspiration in deep peripatetic thoughts and solemn meditation: He pushed his gold-rimmed spectacles to rest on thoughtful brow, perused the fragment’s edges, asking questions: “where?” and “how?”

he studied it so closely, then he nearly lost his nerve when at the bottom of a RHO

he saw a tiny curve...

the letter BETA, suddenly, must be the reading now! His study filled with academic cries of jubilation (a cloud of dust rose from his books as if in wild elation), for where all scholars used to read EROTH’ HIMEROENTA

the learned doctor now could see FLEBODE TA TMETHENTA.' The text is thus a fragment of a work on botany (he stabs the poem in his notes with a malicious glee),

for now the tender kisses have turned out to be a flower and leaves replace the passions which the lover’s soul devour. He fills five folios with notes and eagerly he reads and studies prints and drawings of the most exotic weeds. And four years pass with toil, then he receives another fine degree a doctorate in botany -

a science, incidentally, established in Antiquity. The theses of Linné, it’s true, received some approbation...

but Theophrastus was the source of Linné’s inspiration! The German doctor’s new and thorough re-interpretation provides a crucial insight into ancient vegetation and if you like a ramble through the woods, do bring his thesis: one’s joy in nature is enhanced by this important treatise,

if one goes out some sunny day to pick the flowers of spring.

!

Original reading:

pô

Jiplepdpevra New reading:

φλεβώϊδη τά] τμιηθέέντα

THE SORCERER’S APPRENTICE

Yet no true papyrologist would dream of such a thing! No, they all hurry to their studies in their eager quest where, hid behind a thousand books, they from the world find rest.

A thousand noses now descend toward the German’s pages, a thousand learned brows are knit: one problem them engages. The question which, predictably, their learned doubts has stirred is whether RHO should be retained or BETA be preferred. In polished Latin scholars fight and argue pros and cons; a choice between two sects is faced by all the classics dons: while BET Anists now advocate the flower theory, eRHOticists prefer to keep the lover’s poetry. A compromise suggested by a don from Italy is that the text in fact combines both plant and poetry: of course! It is a fragment of a late anthology.

In vain his arbitration: now the war is at its height and missiles, leather-bound and thick, are thrown into the fight while spectacles are polished by each valiant crusader who’ll sacrifice his blood and ink to honour Alma Mater. But just as the eRHOticists their sharpened pens have thrust into the ranks of BETAnists so that they bite the dust

and paralysed with writer’s cramp so swift in battle fall, here sounds again another academic bugle-call: the

Neo-BET Anists have joined and reinforcements sent

who use as their artillery the same old argument in somewhat altered form and yet essentially the same as that with which the German once had set the strife aflame. They force back the eRHOtcists and their attack contain

~ and Sisyphos begins to roll his stone up-hill again. And scholars catch the fell disease which everybody dreads: the writer’s itch, the pestilence, PHILOLOGITIS spreads. But after half a century the war is ended, finally! A few fight on, halfheartedly:

without results, regrettably, the strife dies down. The massive books produced and launched by scholars who are fighting force learned men to read a lot and leave no time for writing so one by one the scholars now begin to look around for other topics which may yet the learned world astound.

15

16

MOGENS HERMAN HANSEN

Into the River Lethe all the textual problems slide;

the crucial line gets buried with a crux on either side. The books are sent to quiet vaults in every library; the countless dusty folios (which no-one asks to see) commemorate the men who fought, the names of whom are written

with golden letters on their backs, like tomb-stones dark and hidden. A trophy is set up upon the scholars’ battlefield: a detailed bibliography will information yield on all the publications that formed part of the debate -five lines from Greek Antiquity, five million lines of late. Denmark three and Sweden four Holland almost half a score

monographs, and France has more U.S. beats them — what a bore! Many British books you'll see

But the German entry ... one thousand and three. So if you’re ever travelling in southern parts, my dear and if you find a fragment of an ancient writer here I beg you, preserve our sanity! Take pity on reading humanity,

and burn it!

First published in Danish in 50 mytologiske limericks - og andre vers om de gamle grækere (Copenhagen 1994). Translated into English from the Danish original “Troldmandens Lerling” by L. Rubinstein with a little help from P.J. Rhodes.

Conventions 1.

References to Greek authors follow the abbreviations of OCD’. For references to Jacoby’s Fragmente, we print e.g.: Ar(i)aithos (FGrHist 316) fr. 6.

2.

References to inscriptions follow the conventions of SEG.

3,

Citations of modern works follow Journal of Archaeology (1991).

4.

Publications of the Copenhagen following way:

CPCAcets 1

(1993) = ΜΗ.

the

abbreviations

Polis Centre are referred to in the

Hansen (ed.), The Ancient Greek City-State.

Acts of the Copenhagen

Polis Centre

Danske Videnskabernes Selskab, Meddelelser 67 (Copenhagen 1993). CPCActs 2

of American

1. Det Kongelige Historisk-filosofiske.

(1995) = M.H. Hansen (ed.), Sources for the Ancient Greek City-State. Acts of the Copenhagen Polis Centre 2. Det Kongelige Danske Videnskabernes Selskab, Historisk-

filosofiske Meddelelser 72 (Copenhagen 1995). CPCActs 3

(1996) = ΜΗ. Hansen (ed.), Introduction to an Inventory of Poleis. Acts of the Copenhagen Polis Centre 3. Det Kongelige Danske Videnskabernes Selskab, Historiskfilosofiske Meddelelser 74 (Copenhagen 1996).

CPCActs 4

(1997) = ΜΗ. Hansen (ed.), The Polis as an Urban Centre and as a Polincal Community. Acts of the Copenhagen Polis Centre 4. Det Kongelige Danske Videnskabernes Selskab, Historisk-filosofiske Meddelelser 75 (Copenhagen 1997).

CPCActs 5

(1998) = ΜΗ. Hansen, Polis and City-State. An Ancient Concept and its Modern Equivalent. Acts of the Copenhagen Polis Centre 5. Det Kongelige Danske Videnskabernes Selskab, Historisk-filosofiske Meddelelser 76 (Copenhagen

1998).

CPCAcıs 6

CPCPapers

(1999) = T.H. Nielsen & J. Roy (eds.), Defining Ancient Arkadia. Acts of the Copenhagen Polis Centre 6, Det Kongelige Danske Videnskabernes Selskab, Historiskfilosofiske Meddelelser 78 (Copenhagen 1999). 1

(1994) = D. Whitehead (ed.), From Political Architecture to Stephanus Byzantius. Sources for the Ancient Greek Polis.

Papers from the Copenhagen Polis Einzelschriften 87 (Stuttgart 1994).

Centre

1. Historia

18

CPCPapers 2

CONVENTIONS

(1995) = M.H. Hansen & K. Raaflaub (eds.), Studies in the Ancient Greek Polis. Papers from the Copenhagen Polis

Centre 2. Historia Einzelschriften 95 (Stuttgart 1995).

CPCPapers 3

(1996) = M.H. Hansen & K. Raaflaub (eds.), More Studies

in the Ancient Greek Polis. Papers from the Copenhagen Polis Centre 3. Historia Einzelschriften 108 (Stuttgart 1996).

CPCPapers 4

(1997) = T.H. Nielsen (ed.), Yet More Studies in the Ancient Greek Polis. Papers from the Copenhagen Polis Centre 4.

Historia Einzelschriften 117 (Stuttgart 1997). CPCPapers 5

(2000) = P. Flensted-Jensen (ed.), Further Studies in the Ancient Greek Polis. Papers from the Copenhagen Polis

Centre 5. Historia Einzelschriften 138 (Stuttgart 2000).

Part I

THE POLIS

Physical Aspects of the Polts

A Decade of Demography. Recent Trends in the Study of Greek and Roman Populations’

MARK GOLDEN

Mogens

Hansen’s Demography

and Democracy

(1986)

placed the burden

of

proof squarely on those who would set the adult male citizen population of

Athens during most of the fourth century much below 30,000. A decade later,

there it remains.” This is not to suggest, however, that the field of ancient demography

has been stable and stationary.

On

the contrary, new studies

appear at an ever increasing rate, and they are as likely to controvert each other as to corroborate.

Hansen

himself has not been

idle: his

Three Studies in

Athenian Demography (1988a) amounts to the most substantial contribution

since his own book. This Festschrift affords a fitting opportunity to survey some significant trends in an area in which

Mogens

Hansen

has already accom-

plished so much and to identify issues which are still the subject of lively debate. My illustrations are drawn from an admittedly subjective selection of the last ten years’ work. In excuse, I plead that the pace of publication ensures that any attempt at a comprehensive bibliography must be futile -- I know of five conferences devoted at least in part to the subject whose papers are likely to appear in print before this volume is published? — and that recent compilations provide many titles I overlook here.* Throughout, I use demography in its broadest sense, to include what is sometimes called population studies -the links between what can be described statistically and its cultural contexts. “Statistics are the lifeblood of demography,

(Frier [1992] Society

(1992).

and nothing can substitute”

383). Frier was discussing Parkin’s Demography and Roman Not

to be outdone,

Parkin’s

review

of The Demography

of

Roman Egypt (Bagnall & Frier [1994]) featured (among much else) a slew of mathematical corrections, from 0.37188 to 0.37118, from 51,517 to 51,714 and so on.’ From

Richard

Saller’s

18-page microsimulation

of the Roman

kinship universe‘ and Stephen Hodkinson’s computer-derived model of the interrelation of demography and inheritance patterns at Sparta’ to the unpublished BA thesis which corrects computations on the local production and consumption of grain in Attika®, the current cohort of contributors to ancient

demography displays formidable quantitative competence.’ But calculations can only be as valid as the data they’re based on. Is our evidence trustworthy?

24

MARK

GOLDEN

We may distinguish two tendencies, conveniently labelled “empiricists” (like

Frier) and “pessimists” (Parkin, for example).'° But the question “How good is the evidence?” often means “What is the evidence good for?” - a point which will recur. I arrange this discussion, therefore, according to another distinction,

that between stock data - the stuff of macrodemography, population size — and flow data, the basis of microdemographic researches into patterns of mortality

and fertility, ages of marriage, rates of abortion and exposure.'!

Stock data is the traditional concern of historical demography, of Hume and Gibbon, Beloch and Gomme.

Indeed, Beloch’s means of estimating the sizes

of ancient populations anticipated most of those in use today: census figures, the numbers of recipients of food subsidies, army strengths, stray statements

in our sources, rural settlement patterns and carrying capacities, urban areas and the numbers and sizes of their residential structures, the number and size of households,

the

archaeology

of ancient

theatres.'”

In

each

category,

difficulties abound. We have few census figures, and even then there is rarely

certainty on a census’ purpose and on its criteria for inclusion.'? So Lo Cascio can argue that the figures from Augustus’ Res Gestae include only male citizens

aged 17 and over'* and Morley and Scheidel can take them as the number of all Roman received

citizens regardless of age (except infants).!* Just which gifts

of grain

or

meat

is unclear.’

Army

strengths

are

Romans seldom

straightforward (some may be conventional, for instance) and are not reported

systematically. For Athens, even the interpretation of a seemingly explicit statement

by

Thucydides

on

the

city’s

armed

forces

on

the

eve

of the

Peloponnesian War (Thuc. 2.13.6-7) remains elusive,'’ and extrapolating from these figures is bedevilled by the possibility that significant numbers

were

physically unable to serve — though Edwards (1996) 89-90 decries most estimates as too high — and that some overage hoplites volunteered.'* How about our random bits of information? Some are obviously no better than wild guesses,’ others open to misinterpretation: an inscription often taken to show that Ephesos once boasted 40,000 citizens in fact gives the number entertained

by one Aurelius Barenus in the late second century AD, some 1040.”° And of course nothing in manuscripts is more liable to scribal error than numerals.”! The Athenian tribute lists are among the sources unavailable to Beloch. But despite efforts to use them as rough guides to at least the relative sizes of the states they record (most recently by Ruschenbusch [1991a]), the quotas do not

seem to reflect contributors’ army strengths or their populations as a whole (Nixon & Price [1990]). Beloch did make much use of carrying capacity, the

A DECADE OF DEMOGRAPHY

maximum

population

which

25

could be supported by a region’s agricultural

production. Not always conclusively: his calculations for Sicily were based on the cultivable area for wheat, whereas there are reasons to believe that barley

was the island’s staple crop and that his population figures should therefore be revised upwards.”? By way of contrast, our best evidence for Attic yields, the dedication of first fruits at Eleusis in 329/8 (IG II’ 1672), now proves to have

come from a poor crop year.’ Among other problems, no population makes use of all the potential food sources in its environment and many are sustained by imports as well as by their own crops.“ The existence of different groups within ancient communities, with very different access to resources of all kinds

— I’m thinking here of women as well as of slaves — must further complicate any calculations.

Nor are populations easy to estimate from the evidence of habitation in the countryside. “The supply of pottery ... is not always a reliable indicator of the presence or absence of settlement” (Carrete et al. [1995] 241, on Tarragona). Some pot debris finds its way to the fields as a by-product of fertilization (266).

It is difficult to distinguish in the archaeological record between short term occupation of sites in succession and simultaneous occupation of the same sites.” Even when we can be confident that the number of sites has decreased, we may not know the cause. The apparent depopulation of Dark Age Arkadia may reflect an exodus after the Ionian Migration — but it can also be explained by a change from a sedentary to a more mobile way of life or simply by the lack

of thorough archaeological investigation.” A decrease in Boiotian sites may indicate a consolidation of smaller settlements in the wake of the growth of Lake Kopais.?”” No doubt we are frequently dealing with general factors, of which

a decline in numbers

is only one, and not the main one

(cf. Alcock

[1989] 30-31, on Hellenistic Greece). As for an increase in the number of sites, “the sharp rise in the number of ... farrmsteads in the Late Classical ... represents a change in agricultural strategy, which may be only partly correlated with a general rise in the population level” (Jameson et al. [1994] 549, on the Southern Argolid).

Cities are no simpler. To measure the area within the walls is one thing -and not necessarily easy (impossible for Roman Alexandria: Delia [1988] 279). It is quite another to reckon with suburbs, perhaps shanty towns which leave no trace, and with extensive parks and public spaces where no one lived.? We cannot assume similar densities in every part of town (see Guilhembet [1996] 15-18, on Rome). Even sound evidence for city structures may not establish whether they were residential, how many storeys residences contained, how many households lived in each — something influenced by cultural practices as well as by economic necessity and apparently varying even between patrilocal

26

MARK GOLDEN

and matrilocal communities.” The very meaning of insula is in dispute (Lo Cascio [1997] 58-63). It is sobering to note that two sophisticated and well informed investigations of the population of Augustus’ Rome take into account the city’s area, the type and number of its dwellings, household composition and the evidence of population densities in other major urban areas of the past and present and still arrive at diverging conclusions — a population of about half a million million

(Storey

inhabitants

[1997a],

(Morley

(1997b}),

[1996]

as against some

33-39).

Finally,

850,000

to one

the reliability of con-

clusions based on theatre capacities may be gauged from the case of Timgad in North Africa in the early second century AD, where earlier investigators

worked with a ratio of four citizens for every seat and the latest discussion reckons with one to one.” Seats at Athens’ Theatre of Dionysos were of two different sizes and those in Attic demes may often have served neighbouring areas as well.”' No wonder, then, that some scholars despair:

The precise number of seven millions as an approximation of the number of the Jews in the Roman Empire has no foundation in histoncal evidence ... Our evidence does not enable us to offer well-founded estimates of that kind; it is not representative and it is not comprehensive. We cannot hope to establish any reliable estimates of absolute numbers or of relative proportions. We cannot even be sure of the orders of magnitude involved (Wasserstein [1996] 313). Relatively abundant and (thanks to the epigraphic habit) constantly accumulating information, along with the opportunity to test it against the workings of the democracy make Athens exceptional. Even there, however, questions

remain

open.

How

many

magistracies

were

there??? How

many

members of the Council of 500 served twice?” The fewer the repetitions, the more citizens aged thirty and over needed to man the Council. Did the system operate in the same way throughout the democracy? Hans Lohmann’s survey

of southern Attika shows that the deme Atene was settled only sparsely in Kleisthenes’ day and so could not have become part of Athens’ civic structure until sometime later.* Our sources preserve no trace of such additions to the original Kleisthenic demes

or of the redistribution of bouleutic quotas they

would entail, but they clearly occurred nonetheless.* Other readjustments are likely enough; awareness of the possibility must restrict the use of calculations built on fourth-century practices for accounts of Athens’ earlier population.

A DECADE OF DEMOGRAPHY

27

u Reliable flow data would seem still more difficult to come by, determining as

they do population dynamics rather than a fixed number. The problems posed by inscribed gravestones and skeletons for deriving life expectancies and sex

ratios are now well known.” The promise of the Ulpianic life table as a gauge of Roman life expectancy has proved illusory to most.” So too some of the more imaginative ways of supplementing scarce data. For example, Pierre Brulé has calculated the number of children ever born to families found in the lists of new citizens of Hellenistic ion and Miletos, compared the number of surviving children, and concluded that half the girls were exposed.” But his

method of supplying missing births requires him to assume that first-born boys were invariably named after the father’s father, their next-born brothers after

the mother’s father, and similarly for girls — so making a rigid rule of what was no more than a common custom. Yet, however paradoxically, it is in this area

that ancient demography has come furthest in the last few years. This progress is due in part to the evident value of the results. Not that raw population figures lack interest. The numbers of soldiers and sailors (and the availability of funds to feed them) help explain both the long term military predominance of some Greek cities and the outcome of individual battles: it is noteworthy here that Robert Sallares, among the most old-fashioned of demographers

as well as the most innovative,

thinks the Greeks

may have

outnumbered their enemies in the Persian Wars.” But it’s hard to imagine any one piece of stock data surpassing the payoff of Richard Saller’s investigations into the

interplay of mortality

and

age

of marriage

in the Roman

family

(updated and expanded in Saller [1994]): a transformation in our understanding of parma potestas (and indeed in the relations between law and social reality at Rome), a new appreciation of the amount of wealth owned by underage heirs and the constraints it imposed on the development of the Roman economy, striking insight into the role of women as social and political allies for their fatherless sons.“ Nor need the numbers which make up flow data rob

ancient history of its personality. On the contrary: to observe that, by the time Augustus died, only one of his subjects in six could remember a time before he was their sole ruler is to stress the extraordinary role of this one individual, a

‘statistical! fluke’, in founding an empire that endured for many hundreds of years.‘ Saller’s success involved a fresh approach to an existing body of evidence, inscribed tombstones, and the use of model life tables. Similarly, but still more

ambitiously, Roger Bagnail and Bruce Frier have collected and re-edited a corpus

of raw

materials,

some

300

census

returns

(involving

about

1100

28

MARK GOLDEN

individuals) from of the population age of marriage, praise, not least

Roman Egypt, and constructed a full and complex portrait it represents: household structure, life expectancy, sex ratio, fertility, patterns of migration. Their work has won high for establishing the value of the census returns as “quite

probably the best available source for any population prior to the Renaissance”

(Bagnall & Frier [1994] 50, cf. Parkin [1995] 90).“ It also prompts some farreaching questions. Most fundamentally, How much do these census returns tell us about other populations in the ancient Mediterranean? In the first instance, the returns represent the population of the Arsinoite and Oxyrhynchite nomes of Middle Egypt in the first three centuries of the current

era.

Bagnall

&

Frier

suggest,

however,

resemblance” to the province of Egypt as a whole, to the Roman Empire in general.“ Elsewhere, Frier based on the same data is titled “Natural Fertility Roman Marriage” (1994) and the use of the census

that

they

bear

“a family

and more tentatively still, is less cautious. An article and Family Limitation in returns to stand in for the

whole Roman world is justified by the fact that they come from one of Egypt’s most Hellenized regions (327)! Can this road really lead to Rome? Only, perhaps, if there is no other likely destination. This, in fact, is what Frier contends. “There is no sound a prior reason to suppose that the Roman

world

departed from a pattern found in all other pretransitional populations of which we have reliable knowledge” (323). In other words, the burden of proof falls on those who suspect that the Egyptian material is unrepresentative of other portions of the Roman Empire, just as it does for the Roman Empire among other pretransitional populations. The narrow issue in Frier’s article is whether ordinary Egyptians (and Romans) succeeded in limiting their fertility within marriage. This is worth a closer look. But first we should establish that matters

of much wider import are clearly implicated. “Pretransitional”

and

“transitional”

are descriptive terms,

distinguishing

groups with higher and lower levels of both fertility and mortality respectively.

The terms imply a temporal relationship; and sure enough, when we have a reliable basis for judgement, pretransitional regimes of fertility and mortality

do give way to transitional patterns. Still, the evolutionary perspective has come

under

attack

as an

outgrowth

of modernization

theory,

itself now

outmoded.“ Furthermore, even if we accept it (as most historical demographers do), we must recognize that the transition occurred (and occurs) at

different times in different places: we cannot simply assume that any ancient or mediaeval population is pretransitional. After all, no explanation for the transition now holds sway. Urbanization, literacy, infant and child mortality,

industrialization — none has proved to coincide clearly enough with fertility

decline in Europe.“ New candidates have been proposed - feminism perhaps

A DECADE OF DEMOGRAPHY

29

the most attractive.“ If there is a consensus, it is to recognize the complex interplay of variables which must underlie the transition, institutional and social

organization,

social

structure,

culture

in its broadest

sense

among

them.“ In such a situation, the identification of the census population as pretransitional is justified by the data Bagnall & Frier have analyzed, but the ascription of the burden of proof to those who doubt their general applicability is not. This is all the more the case when (as Bagnall & Frier of course recognize) the census population is so unusual, almost unique, in at least one aspect, the prevalence of marriages between full brothers and sisters.** This exceptional practice must have affected marital fertility in distinctive ways, raising it in the short term (because such marriages were apparently contracted at younger

ages)

and

lowering

it disastrously

over

time

due

to the

high

incidence of birth defects and the drain on resources required to care for defective children who survived. “The average incestuous family of Roman Egypt would have to keep running just to stay in place,” says Scheidel,* and the layperson

may

reflect

undercuts Frier’s argument

that even

running

wouldn’t

on family planning at Rome,

be enough.

It also

to which we now

return. Frier is willing to grant that members of the Roman elite and those (like prostitutes) who were unmarried may have wanted to limit conception and its

consequences.” It is John Riddle’s argument ([1992], [1997]) that ordinary Romans possessed the motivation and the means to do likewise that he objects to, in part because of the effects of such practices on the community’s survival. But the threat to their survival in the long run doesn’t seem to have stopped the

incestuous

siblings

of the

Arsinoite

and

Oxyrhynchite

nomes.

It is

plausible, therefore, that significant sectors of other populations in the Roman world were just as liable to play reproductive roulette. I offer two conclusions.

First, the caution of Bagnall & Frier is to be preferred to the untempered optimism Frier displays on his own. Second — once again — the use to which this (and other) evidence is put is crucial. Frier stresses that we should not be satisfied with setting a range for Roman life expectancy of between twenty and

thirty years at birth. Only a more exact figure (such as the 22.5 years for women derived from the census data) can indicate whether the Roman Empire

improved the expectation of life for its inhabitants over basic levels.” Saller accepts that the census data fit quite closely with the results of his microsimulation of the Roman

kin universe.”

Still, he runs his microsimulation

with

different values for life expectancy to make the point that the outcomes, vary though they may, don’t imperil his key contention, that the Roman experience

was very unlike our own.” The issues Brent Shaw has been addressing, however — seasonal mortality, the timing of marriage — demonstrate continuity

30

MARK GOLDEN

over

considerable

periods

of time

within

regions

with

similar

climatic,

environmental and economic regimes, including endemic diseases.“ Roman women married during the down time at the end of the agricultural cycle in our December and January; in Egypt, there was no such clear demarcation

between times of heavy work and leisure, and a different pattern — or no pattern to speak of — prevailed. The scanty data which survive (observes Shaw) “probably reflect ecological and demographic conditions that would offer few comparisons

with

those

obtaining

in

Roman

Italy”

(Shaw

[1997]

68).

Sometimes it is differences that matter most. Can we say how often or how much?

The reconstruction of the population of the census returns depends (like almost all anthropological and historical demography today) on uniformitarianism. As Nancy Howell, long a leading exponent of this approach, puts it:

Demography is one of the best understood and predictable parts of human behavior ... When the parameters are known ... or can be estimated, the population structure that will result is highly predictable and can be projected forward and backward

in time

... Demographers

use the

great redundancy of demographic data to fill in the blanks and to check the accuracy of collected data, so that unknown

facts can often be de-

termined indirectly (Howell [1986] 219). For example, though rates of mortality may differ greatly, especially between pretransitional and transitional populations, the shapes of mortality curves remain relatively constant: everywhere and at every time mortality levels are high for newborns, decline until age ten or so, rise slowly until the mid forties and then begin to go up markedly. No one denies the prevalence of variation, even

significant variation, in the short term,” whether from mortality crises (such as the plague at Athens) or in fertility rates within and between pretransitional

populations” or in the age of marriage in an English village.’ Some variations may have been regular throughout the Mediterranean: upland regions had lower rates and different seasonal patterns of mortality than those close to water, subject to malaria and other fevers.” Altitude may have delayed puberty

and so the age of marriage for girls.” Cities were population sinks, consumers of human lives as of other resources.” We are sometimes able to estimate the extremes for Greek and Roman

communities by what our sources accept as

plausible. Hekataios (FGrHisz 1) fr. 19 wouldn’t swallow the story that Aigyptos had fifty sons — “he had not even twenty in my opinion”; some Greek men could (Dem.

convince

themselves

59.18-19).

that the heratra

Otherwise,

we

must

Nikarete

think in terms

had

seven

daughters

of the range

of the

probable, reassured by the reflection that the range ts more circumscribed than

A DECADE

OF DEMOGRAPHY

31

in political and military history, the stuff of singular events (cf. Saller [1994] 9-10). In the long run, however, it is generally agreed that short term fluctuations more or less cancelled each other out, that fertiliry and mortality (the

most important variables for most purposes) were roughly in equilibrium at whatever level and that growth rates, for example, did not exceed one-half percent per year for any extensive time. This consensus has now been challenged

by a more radical form of uniformitarianism in the work of Robert Sallares. For Nancy Howell - an anthropologist -- demography deals with human behavior. Sallares, however, is a scientist by training as well as a historian and identifies the proper context for human demography as ecology and evolutionary biology, “the study of the distribution and abundance of populations

of living organisms in relation to their environment”.°' Human beings not only compete, successfully or not, with other species — Sallares’ is a kind of history

which the winners may not write -- they behave like them, reproducing rapidly to fill mew ecological niches, dying in droves when they exceed the environment’s carrying capacity. Dramatic increases and decreases of population are taken to be the norm and not for the short term only: Sallares envisages stretches of rapid population growth in the Attika of the eighth century and the

pentekontaetia, as much as three percent per year, over a good fifty years.° The crash in the early Hellenistic period, when the carrying capacity of the environment was exceeded, was also rapid, achieved in part by family planning (including exposure of children). If this assimilates Greeks to plants and insects — be fruitfly and multiple, as the old joke goes - it also distinguishes them from Romans and their other neighbors. “The social structure of the ancient Greek polis differed from all later societies in European history, including Rome, in

ways which had the effect of making the demography of ancient Greece qualitatively different from all demographic patterns that have been observed in the subsequent course of European

history” (Sallares

[1991]

11, cf. 89,

201). On the other hand, the social structure in question, built on age classes, and the consequent demographic patterns, are also found in East Africa and

Papua New Guinea. Despite his evident energy and erudition, Sallares’ conclusions about the rapid growth of the eighth century and the age classes which kept the popu-

lation in check before have not convinced all his colleagues.’ But what if his understanding of Greek (and other) populations is on the right track nevertheless -- if swings in population are so prevalent and so extreme?” At the very

least, it would become much harder to do ancient demography on any but the smallest or the largest scale, as a snapshot of a year or so for which good data happened to be at hand or as a panorama of centuries. For the middle range,

32

MARK GOLDEN

the focus of so much recent work, we might conclude as Peter Garnsey has (on

different grounds) for fourth-century Artika: “an average population figure ... is a meaningless concept” (Garnsey [1988] 137). Everyone knows that the models which inform most of the demography of the past decade are illusory, images of populations which have never in fact existed, but are good to think with. We may be aware, as well, that they are derived from the experiences of populations that need not resemble those which interest us in every way. The Coale-Demeny

model

life tables used by most historical demographers

are

based on populations with life expectancies at birth in the low thirties and

above. Tables for populations with lower life expectancies — like those of the ancient world — are derived by extrapolation. This is a motive for the de-

velopment of new tables from evidence of higher mortality populations.” Even such tables, however,

may mislead in some

respects. In particular, the re-

lationships between infant and early childhood mortality and between infant and adult mortality vary a good deal in high mortality populations.” In addition, the Coale-Demeny tables disregard evidence from historical populations in which tuberculosis was common -- 85 it likely was in ancient Greece and Rome.” Nevertheless, most of us will go on treating life tables like the square root of minus one: a necessary fiction, if we are to reach results. Maybe, how-

ever, they are more like Santa Claus, a beguiling fantasy which we one day may be able to do without. With that possibility in mind, we should enjoy the gifts of demographic uniformitarianism, but not let ourselves become too attached to them.

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Preston, S.H., & McDaniel, A. & Grushka, C. 1993. “New Model Life Tables for High-

36

MARK GOLDEN

Mortality Populations,” Historical Methods 26: 149-159. Pritchett, W.K. 1995. Thucydides’ Pentekontaetia and Other Essays (Amsterdam). Rhodes, P.J. 1988. Thucydides History 2 (Warminster). Riddle, J.M. 1992. Contraception and Abortion from the Ancient World to the Renatssance (Cambridge MA). Riddle, J.M. 1997. Eve’s Herbs. A History of Contraception and Abortion in the West (Cambridge MA). Rosivach, V.J. 1993. “The Distribution of Population in Attica,” GRBS

34: 391-407.

Rubincam, C. 1991. “Casualty Figures in the Battle Descriptions of Thucydides,” TAPA 121: 181-198. Ruschenbusch, E. 1988a. “Demography and Democracy. Doch noch einmal die Bürgerzahl Athens im 4. Jh. v. Chr.,” ZPE 72: 139-140. Ruschenbusch, E. 1988b. “Stellungnahme,” ZPE 75: 194-196. Ruschenbusch, E. 1991a. “Phokis, Lebensraum und Bevölkerungszahl. Möglichkeiten und Grenzen bei der Feststellung von Einwohnerzahlen im griechischen Mutterland,” in Olshausen & Sonnabend (1991) 299-312. Ruschenbusch, E. 1991b. “Übervölkerung in archaischer Zeit,” Historia 40: 375-378. Sallares, R. 1991. The Ecology of the Ancient Greek World (Ithaca NY). Sallares, R. & Scheidel, W. (forthcoming). Disease and the Demography of the Roman Empire. Saller, R.P. 1994. Pamarchy, Property and Death in the Roman Family (Cambridge). Salmon, P. 1992. “La contamination des eaux et son impact sur la démographie du monde gréco-romain,” in G. Argoud et al. (eds.), L’eau et les hommes en Méditerranée et en Mer notre dans l'antiquité de l'époque mycénienne au règne de Justinien (Athens) 541-555. Scheidel, W. 1996a. Measuring Sex, Age and Death in the Roman Empire. Exploranons in Ancient Demography, JRA Suppl. 21 (Ann Arbor). Scheidel, W. 1996b. “Die biclogische Dimension der Alten Geschichte,” Tyche 11: 207222. Scheidel, W. 1996c. “Brother-Sister and Parent-Child Marriage outside Royal Families in Ancient Egypt and Iran: a Challenge to the Sociobiological View of Incest Avoidance?” Ethology and Sociobiology 17: 319-340. Scheidel, W. 1997. “Quantifying the Sources of Slaves in the Early Roman Empire,” JRS 87: 156-169. Scheidel, W.

1998a.

“Addendum,”

in P. Garnsey,

Cines, Peasants and Food in Classical

Antiquity: Essays in Social and Economic History, edited with addenda by W. Scheidel (Cambridge) 195-200. Scheidel, W. 1998b. “The Meaning of Dates on Mummy Labels: Seasonal Mortality and Mortuary Practice in Roman Egypt,” 7RA 11: 285-292. Scheidel, W. 1999. “Emperors, Aristocrats and the Grim Reaper: towards a Demographic

Profile of the Roman Elite,” CQ 49: 254-281. Scobie, A. 1986. “Slums, Sanitation and Mortality in the Roman World,” Kiso 68: 399-433. Sealey, R. 1993, Demosthenes and his Time (New York & Oxford).

Seccombe, W. 1983. “Marxism and Demography,” New Left Review 137: 22-47. Seccombe, W. 1990. “Starting to Stop: Working-Class Fertility Decline in Britain,” PastPres 126: 151-188. Seccombe, W. 1992. A Millennium of Family Change. Feudalism to Capitalism in Northwestern Europe (London & New York). Sekunda, N.V. 1992. “Athenian Demography and Military Strength 338-322 BC,” BSA 87: 311-355. Shaw, B.D. 1992. “Explaining Incest: Brother-Sister Marriage in Graeco-Roman Egypt,” Man

27: 267-299.

Shaw, B.D. 1996. “Seasons of Death: Aspects of Mortality in Imperial Rome,” FRS 86: 100-138.

A DECADE OF DEMOGRAPHY

37

Shaw, B.D. 1997. “Agrarian Economy and the Marriage Cycle of Roman Women,” JRA 10: 57-76. Simon, S.J. 1993. “The Population of Cyrene, Ephesus and Corinth,” AncW 24: 55-56. Storey, G.R. 1997a. “Estimating the Population of Ancient Roman Cities,” in R.R. Paine (ed.), Integranng Archaeological Demography: Multidisciplinary Approaches to Prehistoric Populanon, Center for Archaeological Investigations, Occasional Paper No. 24 (Carbondale IL) 101-129. Storey, G.R. 1997b. “The Population of Ancient Rome,” Anngquity 71: 966-978. Suder, W. 1988. Census populi: bibliographie de la démographie de l'anriquiré romaine (Bonn). Suder, W. 1993. “Démographie des femmes de l’ordre sénatorial (17 - II" siècle ap. J.-C.): fécondité,” in A. Ladomirski (ed.), Études sur l’histoire gréco-romaine/Studia z dziejéw

Grecri i Rzymu, Antiquitas 18 (Wroclaw) 199-201. Vestergaard, T., & Hansen, M.H., & Rubinstein, L., & Bjertrup, L. & Nielsen, T.H. 1992. “The Age-Structure of Athenian Citizens Commemorated in Sepulchral Inscriptions,” ClMed 43: 5-21. Wallace-Hadrill, A. 1991. “Houses and Households: Sampling Pompeii and Herculaneum,” in B. Rawson (ed.), Marriage, Divorce and Children in Ancient Rome (Canberra & Oxford) 191-227. Warren, P.D. & Bagnall, R.S. 1988. “The Forty Thousand Citizens of Ephesus,” CP 83: 220-223. Wasserstein, A. 1996. “The Number and Provenance of Jews in Graeco-Roman Antiquity: a Note on Population Statistics,” in R. Katzoff with Y. Petroff and D. Schaps (ed.) , Classical Studies in Honor of David Sohlberg (Ramat Gan) 307-317. Whitby, M. 1998. “The Grain Trade of Athens in the Fourth Century BC,” in H. Parkins & C. Smith (eds.), Trade, Traders and the Ancient Ciry (London & New York) 102-128. Woods, R. 1993. “On the Historical Relationship between Infant and Adult Mortality,” Population Studies 47: 195-219.

NOTES 1.

Thanks to Paul B. Harvey, Jr., Mark Matz, Tim Parkin, Pauline Ripat, Walter Scheidel, Glenn Storey, Mac Wallace and this volume’s referees for materials and advice.

2.

E.g., most recently, Whitby (1998) 109-111. Those unconvinced include Ruschenbusch (1988a) & (1988b), Sekunda (1992) and Sealey (1993) 18-21. Hansen’s responses: Hansen (1988c), (1989), (1994), (1997) 215-217. Lambert now argues (against Hansen [1986] 62-64) that we should accept the impression derived from Dem. 57, that the deme Halimous had about 80 to 85 adult male citizens, though without addressing the implications of this view for our understanding of the relation between deme populations and bouleutic quotas or for the population of Attika as a whole (Lambert [1993]

3.

4.

389-391).

“Les mégapoles méditerranéennes” (Rome, May 1996), “Premier Colloque international de Démographic historique antique” (Arras, November 1996), “Population size and demographic structure in the ancient world” (First Finley Colloquium on Ancient Social and Economic History, Cambridge, May 1997), “Demografia, sisterni agrari, regimi alimentari nel mondo antico” (Parma, October 1997), “Médecine et démographie dans le monde antique” (Arras, November 1998). Suder (1988), Corvisier & Suder (1996). Note, however, the critical review of Corvisier & Suder (1996) by R. Osborne, CQ 48 (1998) 526-527. I regret that Frier (1999) reached me too late to

be considered here. 5.

Parkin (1995) 97-98,

6.

Saller (1994) 48-65.

38

MARK

GOLDEN

Hodkinson (1992). Scheidel (19982) 198. The most numerate can even revise their own calculations: see Scheidel (19963)

34 ἡ. 130 (on

the average coefficients of inbreeding in Roman Egypt). For similar second thoughts (on the meaning of dates on mummy labels), see Scheidel (1998b) 285 n. 3. Saller (1994) 13. Lo Cascio (1994) 40, Link (1998). Gallo (1990)

133-144, Lo Cascio (1994) 26-27. Bowersock

(1997) provides a brief account of

Beloch’s work in demography. Dahlheim (1989) 304-306. Lo Cascıo (1994) 27-40.

Morley (1996) 47-50, Scheidel (19963) 167-168. Gallo (1991) 372-381 argues that the exetasmas ordered by Demetrios of Phaleron sometime between 317 and 307 was a census (and so accepts 23,000

as the number of the adult male citizens of Athens

at the time)

and further that such

censuses were taken at other times during the fourth century, in 346/5 for one. I have not seen the book he announces in this discussion, L. Gallo, Da Chstene a Demetrio Falereo. Problems di demografia attica dal VI al IV sec. a. C. Hansen’s modified restatement of his own view, that the exetasmos was a military review only, does not refer to Gallo's argument (Hansen [1994] 301302). 16.

Lo Cascio (1997).

11.

See now French (1993), Lapini (1997),

18.

Bintliff (1991) 150-152 offers a more optimistic view of the value of military strengths given in the Hellenica Oxyrhynchia for estimating the population of Boiotia. Spartan army strengths and casualty figures afford useful evidence on population trends (see, e.g., Hodkinson [1989] 100104)

but

are

less reliable

as indicators

of absolute

numbers

(Hodkinson

[1993]

168

n.

2).

Thucydides tends to report casualty figures only when he has a particular point to make, so that those he offers are unlikely to be representative (Rubincam [1991]). 19.

Sce Parkin (1992) 58-66.

20.

Warren & Bagnall (1988), cf. Simon (1993).

21.

Examples in Delia (1988) 282, Harvey (1989-90) 178-179, Pritchett (1995) 24-61.

22.

Gallo (1989).

23.

Garnsey

(1988)

99-101; Scheidel

(1998a)

surveys later publications on this issue and their

implications for Athens’ population.

24.

Cf. Jameson εἰ al. (1994) 539.

25.

Osbome (1991) 231.

26. 21.

Lafond

(1993-94) 233-234.

Corvisier (1994) 316.

28.

Harvey (1989-90) 175.

29.

Kolb (1985) 586, cf. Wallace-Hadrill (1991) 197-214, Storey (1997a} 121-123.

30.

Fushöller (1991) 574-575.

31.

Lohmann (1993) 287-289. For the capacity of Athens’ assembly meeting place on the Pnyx, see Hansen (1996).

32.

Alford (1988) 168-173.

33.

Hansen {1988b), (1994) 306-308, Lohmann (1991) 251, (1993) 285-286.

34.

Lohmann (1991) 210-211, 241, (1993) 247.

35.

Cf. Hansen et al. (1990) 29, despite Rosivach (1993) 401 n. 26.

36.

Gravestones and skeletons: Hopkins (1987), Parkin (1992) 5-19, 43-58, Morris (1992) 72-97, Saller (1994) 15-19. Models of how not to use the evidence of tombstones still survive, for

example in the arbitrary interpretations of epigraphic data to bear out an isolated lirerary text ın Andouche & Simelon (1995). But Paine & Storey (1999) argue that one set of data, Roman inscriptions giving the deceased's life span down to the last day or even hour, is more representative and reliable for demographic purposes than has been allowed, and Scheidel {1996a) 165 holds out hope for “future scientific progress” on the demographic evaluation of

A DECADE OF DEMOGRAPHY

39

skeletal evidence. 37.

38.

Ulpianic life table: Duncan-Jones (1990) 96-101, Parkin (1992) 27-41, Saller (1994) 13-15. Attempts to use the so-called Album of Canusium, a list of town councillors from southern Italy in 223 AD, to establish the life expectancy (Duncan-Jones [1990] 93-96) and fertility (Dal Cason Patriarca [1995]} of the Italian elite may also be overly opurmisuc; see Parkin (1992) 137-138, Saller (1994) 16-18, Scheidel (1999) 263-265. Brulé (1990). For other recent discussions of exposure and infanticide, see Golden (1992) 325

n. 45, with the addition of Brulé (1992), Harris (1994), Ogden (1994) 91-96, Huys (1995), (1996), Edwards (1996), Martin (1996) 53-54, Ogden (1996) 106-110, Dasen (1997) 60-61. 39.

Sallares (1991) 46-48.

Along the same lines, it is demographic probabilities which lead Walter Scheidel to conclude that natural reproduction made up by far the greatest contribution to the supply of slaves in the early

Roman empire and that few freed slaves were fertile enough to benefit from certain privileges available to them by law (Scheidel [1997]). For a response, see Harris (1999). Scheidel (1999) 280. Reviewers note a number of limitations even in this excellent data, especially the underreporting of young men (liable for the poll tax at 14) in towns and of young girls in the countryside and anomalies in the sex ratio. One issue, age rounding, is treated by Scheidel (1996a) 54-91.

Bagnall] & Frier (1994) 51-52, 170. See Greenhalgh (1996) and compare Johansson’s discussion (1994) of the ideological and institutional forces which led to the widespread acceptance of the central role of nutrition in the decline of mortality. 45. 46.

Cf. Parkin (1992) 176 n. 9. See Seccombe (1983) 24, (1990)

the standard

accounts:

everyone”), Mackinnon

152 (“sexual desire and conjugal power are largely absent from

it is as if demographers

believed

in immaculate

conception

- for

(1995). Seccombe’s (1990) discussion draws attention τὸ the impact of

the family life cycle on the timing of reproductive decisions; this plays a vital role in the investigation of the household economy of Greek peasants in Gallant (1991) 11-33. For a critical survey of different approaches to explaining demographic transitions, see now Friedlander, Okun & Segal (1999). 47.

See e.g. Kertzer (1995), Seccombe (1992) offers an ambitious and mulu-faceted analysis of the intertwining of changes in modes of production, household dynamics and demography in different parts of western Europe.

48.

Walter Scheidel's research on the Egyptian material and its implications, set out most fully in Scheidel (1996a) 9-51, is fundamental and not just for students of antiquity. See also Shaw (1992). Mülke (1996) examines brother-sister incest and marriage in Classical Athens.

49.

Scheidel (1996a) 27, cf. (1996c) 328.

50.

Suder (1993) also finds evidence for contraception among the Roman elite. King (1998) 132-156 provides a critique of Riddle. On abortion, Jütte (1993) is a general survey of antiquity, Laale {1992-93a),

51. 52. 53.

54. 55. 56. 57.

(1992-93b)

and

(1993-94)

collections

of material

by a zoologist

motivated

by

hostiliry to abortion and ignorant of recent relevant scholarly discussions. Hanson, discussing miscarriage and abortion in the Hippokratic Corpus, notes that writers’ first-hand accounts involve prostitutes - they chose not to locate women who procured abortions “at the centre of the familial household” (Hanson [1995] 298-302, at 301). Frier (1992) 386. Saller (1994) 20, 66-69. In a similar exercise, Rhodes (1988) 271-273 shows that different demographic models employed in recent discussions don’t much affect estimates for the age structure of the Athenian citizen population. Shaw (1996), (1997). See, e.g., Parkin (1992) 3, Bagnall & Frier (1994) 38, 173, 177 n. 27, Saller (1994) 92, Scheidel (1996a) 165.

Hewlett (1991) 21-23. Hill (1989).

40 58. 59. 60.

MARK GOLDEN

Sallares (1991) 221-293, Salmon (1992), Scheidel (1996a) 139-163, Shaw (1997) 131, Sallares & Scheidel (forthcoming). Morizot (1989). Scobie (1986), Rosivach (1993) 398, 405, Morley (1996) 39-46. Scobie’s harrowing account of the hazards of life at Rome also contains the decade’s best typo (430): “It is fairly common ... for

people in ἃ public lavatory to retain their faces within their rectum if other people come within earshot.” The concept of the city as a population sink implies significant migration from the countryside. So (in valuable discussions) Bagnall & Frier (1994) 160-169, Morley (1996) 39-54, This is the usual assumption for Classical Attika too (e.g., Damsgaard-Madsen [1988]). However, Rosivach (1993) cautions against exaggerating the extent of immigration into Athens and Lohmann’s survey of Atene ([1991], [1993]) shows that we must take into account movements around the countryside or from city to country as well. 6],

Sallares (1991) 5. Cf. the defininon by Scheidel (1996a) 6: demography “is nothing other than a branch of the study of the replication and recombination of genes in individual genotypes in one particular species of mammalian vertebrates.” Sallares (1991) 86-87.

63.

See,

e.g., Scheidel

Ruschenbusch Greece.

(1996b)

210

(eighth

century),

Osborne

(1991b) offers independent arguments

(1996)

77-78

(age

classes).

But

for relative overpopulation in Archaic

Once again, the effects would be less on some areas — the reconstruction of kin networks, for exampie - than on others (such as a population’s age structure and absolute size). See Preston er al. (1993). 66.

Woods (1993),

67.

Sallares (1991) 237.

Walls and the Pois!

JOHN McK. CAMP II

Greek walls generally do not, I feel, get the attention they deserve in Classical

studies these days. There are good reasons for this. First, from an art historical point of view they are rarely regarded as attractive as a fine piece of painted pottery or a marble statue. Nor will a wall fit comfortably in most museums.

Second, in straight historical terms walls are notoriously difficult to date and as archaeological evidence they are therefore especially frustrating. Third, they are not easy to study; the setting and scale are an important part of a wall’s significance, which simply cannot be understood through plans or photographs alone. It is necessary to leave the library and to examine them in situ. The fact that they are unwieldy,

however,

does not justify neglect, for walls were

a

crucial element in the political and military well-being of every Greek city-state and they are by far the most enduring evidence of antiquity surviving on the

landscape today. Unlike pots, sculptures, and inscriptions, the provenience of a wall is rarely an issue; they tend

to stay where

they were

put and that

immutability makes them unique among Greek artifacts. We will consider the role and significance of walls in the history of the Greek polis, but I would like first to begin with some specific questions: how to date a wall, how to tell who

built it, and how much did it cost? By answering these questions we greatly increase the value of a wall as archaeological evidence. To begin with dating. This problem, more than any other, has proved the stumbling-block in wall studies. If they can’t be dated, their value as historical documents is severely limited. Scholars have been ingenious in the variety of

approaches used, and a brief consideration of their methods will serve as a quick review also of the history of mural scholarship. First and foremost a wall may be dated by direct literary reference, or, even better, by inscriptions. The great wall of Peiraieus, built by Konon between 395 and

391

BC

is an excellent example,

attested both in Xenophon

and

Diodorus as well as inscriptions (Fig. 1) set into the wall as it was being built.” F.G. Maier has collected for us close to a hundred inscriptions which record wall-building projects in his two-volume Griechische Mauerbauinschriften (19591961) Second, a wall might be dated by the style of the masonry and the details of construction. This method was first suggested and applied long ago by Edward

42

JOHN

McK CAMP II

Dodwell during his travels through Greece in 1801

to 1806. He recognized

four styles of masonry and published a book entitled Views and Descnpnons of

Cyclopian or Pelasgic Remains in Greece and Italy in 1834. The German scholars Noack (1927) and Wrede

(1933) and the American Robert Scranton (1941)

made great advances in collecting and analyzing numerous examples. Beyond simple dry-stone or rubble, five basic masonry

styles have been recognized

(Fig. 2). First: Lesbian or curved polygonal. This is one of the most attractive of all styles, with the irregular joints providing no natural lines of weakness. It was favored especially in retaining walls, and can best be appreciated in the great terrace wall for the temple of Apollo at Delphi, which has stood virtually

intact for centuries. The name derives from a passage in Aristotle, which seems to describe the technique used: there are some cases for which it is impossible to lay down a law, so that

a special ordinance becomes necessary. For what is itself indefinite can only be measured by an indefinite standard, like the leaden rule used by Lesbian builders; just as that rule is not rigid but can be bent to the shape of the stone, so a special ordinance is made to fit the circumstances of the case (Eth. Nic. 1137b). This description of a strip of lead used as a template may well have actually been seen in use by Aristotle, who

is known

to have spent time on Lesbos

(Diog. Laert. 5.9). The second style is known as polygonal, where the individual blocks have

straight rather than curving sides, though usually no two sides are parallel to one another. The third style, trapezoidal, is characterized by quadrilateral blocks, with two sides parallel and the other two not. The fourth style is ashlar, regular rectangular blocks, usually of equal size set in courses of equal height. Numerous

surviving building specifications and

contracts describe in detail the required preparation and dimensions of these basic building-blocks of Greek architecture. The

fifth and

final style is pseudo-isodomic,

using regular quadrilateral

blocks with courses of differing heights.

This system of classification allows for some

regularity of terminology,

though many Greek walls, naturally, refuse to be defined so neatly. The wall surrounding the small Phokian town of Medeon is but one example of a circuit which defies such classification (Fig. 3). More troublesome still is the fact that,

though there seem to be some lines of development, a precise and reliable chronology of styles eludes us. The problem of contemporaneity of styles may

WALLS AND THE POLIS

43

be seen, for instance, at Amphissa, near Delphi, or at Oiniadai, in Akarnania, where polygonal and ashlar meld into one another and are fully bonded. So the scholarship moved on, to examine the entire wall, rather than just the details, to consider matters such as the use of terrain, the size, form, and

placement of towers, provisions for the defence of gates and other signs of increasing sophistication to counteract advances in siegecraft, particularly in the fourth century BC. Greek Fornficanons by Fred Winter (1971) and Greek

Aims in Fortificanon by A.W. Lawrence (1979) are the two major studies along these

lines,

together

with A.

Marsden’s

work,

Greek

and

Roman

Arullery

(1969). Here, too, some progress has been made, but only in limited instances. Most

recently we have

entered the era of dating a wall on the basis of

psychology, an approach used in Josiah Ober’s Fortress Anika build a wall? Do you, for instance, build when

(1985). Why

you are powerful

and pro-

sperous and wish to express this with strong walls? Or when you are weak,

desperate, and in need of the protection provided by good fortifications? Both mentalities can be found throughout the historical record of wall-building. For a defensive use of walls one might cite the Athenians frantically tending their fortifications after the Persian destruction in 479 BC, or again at the end of the fourth century, when threatened by the Macedonians.

For an aggressive use

of wall-building we should consider Epameinondas of Thebes, who fortified Messene, Megalopolis, and Mantineia to hem in and contain Sparta, soon after its defeat at the battle of Leuktra in 371 BC.

Often a combination of the various methods outlined above will allow one to arrive at a probable date, especially when comparative material can be called upon. Note, for instance, the similarity in the use of a square tower at the turn of a circuit wall at Pherai in Thessaly and Thisbe in Boiotia (Figs. 4 & 5).’ In addition, both walls are set on almost level ground which never would have withstood siege techniques in use by the early Hellenistic period, and both cities enjoyed a short period of immense ume,

Boiotia under Epameinondas

power and prosperity at the same

and Pherai under Jason and Alexander.

Here, then, comparison of techniques, sophistication of design, and historical

considerations can all be brought to bear to date both circuits with a high degree of probability to the period 375-360 BC. Other walls survive to suggest that they were built purely as an item of

prestige and civic pride. It is hard, for instance, to understand the strategic concerns or political realities which could lead to a circuit as extensive as that built at Herakleia under Latmos in Asia Minor.‘ In this connection it is worth considering the well-known passage in Aristotle’s Politics (133 1al0):

44

JOHN McK CAMP

not only must walls be thrown

II

around the city, but also care must be

taken to see that they are suitable to it, both from the point of view of

ordered adornment and from the point of view of military necessities, especially for those that are now being brought to light.

This sentiment that a wall should be an adornment to the city is more than borne out by an examination of some of the details which survive. Many Greek walls show all the concern for beauty of form and decoration we expect in a red-figured pot, a marble kouros, a well-cut inscription, or a silver coin. The care with which each block is finished, the use of varied coursing, the tooling of the surfaces, and the decorative effect of polychromy belong to the same

aesthetic milieu which we admire in other forms of artistic expression among the Greeks. The best combination of all these elements is perhaps to be found at the north

wall

of Larisa

on the Hermos

(Fig.

6), but numerous

other

fortified circuits are aesthetically pleasing and deliberately so.

There are instances where 1 think we should actually think in terms of regional or local styles of wall-building, which were then exported elsewhere. For origins, Scranton noted that the Lesbian style developed in Aiolis, Boiotia, Atoka,

and

Ionia,

but

Crawford Greenewalt’s

was

almost

never

used

in the

Peloponnese.

And

important recent work at Sardis suggests that the

origins of the ashlar style should perhaps be sought in Greek contacts with the

Lydians. We have little trouble recognizing the existence of regional styles in pottery, sculpture, letter-forms or temple architecture, and it seems likely that the same should be true of wall-building as well.

If we look at the pleasing patterned effect of light marble set with dark gneiss characteristic of walls in the Cyclades,

as on Delos

at the Aphrodision

or

Ekklesiasterion, and compare it with the recently-discovered fortification wall at Stageira, a colony of the island of Andros, we can, I think, see a distinct

similarity. When we consider that Stageira was Aristotle’s home town we can also perhaps understand where he got the notion that a wall should be an adornment to the city. Similarly, the same use of mixed light and dark stone

is found on the inner face of the west wall at Thasos, a colony of Cycladic Paros. The city of Amphipolis was founded by the Strymon river by the Athenians in 437 BC

and was fortified immediately;

the round towers and ashlar

masonry of the walls resemble the fifth-century walls of Eleusis. More work needs to be done, but it appears that, whether in the seventh or fifth century BC, fortification walls were built by colonizing states working in familiar traditions, presumably developed and well-established in the mother-city. Another way of transmitting building styles is attested in the literature and can, I think, be found on the ground. When one city-state supported an ally

WALLS AND THE POLIS

45

and sent help to build walls, they often sent not just money but also architects, masons, and other workers. In 417 BC, when the Argives decided to build long walls to the sea, according to Thucydides (5.82.6) “the whole Argive people,

men, women, and slaves set to work upon the walls; and from Athens there came to them carpenters and stone masons”. Diodorus Siculus describes the rebuilding

of the

walls

of Athens

and

Peiraieus

in

394

BC

as

follows:

“Accordingly Konon hired a multitude of skilled workers, and putting at their

service the general run of his crews, he speedily rebuilt the larger part of the wall. For the Thebans too sent 500 skilled workers and masons, and some other cities also gave assistance” (14.85.3). Both Xenophon (Hell. 4.8.10) and an inscription

(16 II?

1657)

refer to this participation

on the part of the

Boiotians as well. And in 391 BC, when the Athenians assisted the Korinthians in building their long walls, Xenophon reports: “So they came with their full force, accompanied by masons and carpenters, and completed within a few

days the wall toward Sikyon and the west, making a very excellent wall of it” (Hell. 4.4.18). In Athens problem;

the great retaining wall of the third phase

of the Pnyx

is a

the huge size of the blocks, the trapezoidal style, and the charac-

teristic grooved treatment of the joints are all without parallel in Attika. And there is, of course, nothing sadder than an archaeologist without a parallel. In fact, the best parallels for all three elements

are to be found

in the small

Phokian town of Panopeus, which Pausanias describes as having the minimal

requirements of a polis (Fig. 7). Both the probable date and authors of both walls are to be found in two passages in Pausanias, the first describing events in the 340s BC:

In the ninth year after the seizure of the sanctuary Philip put an end to the Phocian, or, as it is called, the Sacred War: this was when Theophilos was archon at Athens in the first year of the hundred and eighth Olympiad, in which Polykles of Cyrene won the foot-race. The cities of Phokis were

taken and razed to the ground: they were Lilaia, Hyampolis, Antikyra, Parapotamii, Panopeus, and Daulis (10.3.1-2). Soon

thereafter

the

continuing

threat

from

Philip

of Macedon

led

the

Athenians and Thebans to help the Phokians to refound and rebuild their cities: In course of time, however,

the cities of Phokis were rebuilt, and the

inhabitants were brought back from the villages to the homes

of their

fathers, though some cities were not rebuilt because they had always been

46

JOHN McK CAMP II weak,

and were then too poor to afford it. It was

Thebans

who brought back the Phocians

before

the Athenians

and

the overthrow of the

Greeks at Chaironeia (10.3.3).

Thus with the parallel from Panopeus and the probable interaction there of Theban and Athenian masons in the years just before Chaironeia in 338 BC,

we have good evidence both for the date and the stylistic anomalies of the great

wall of the Pnyx in Athens.’ A consideration of regional styles also leads to the probable conclusion that the great fort of Eleutherai at the northwest frontier of Attika is of Boiotian rather than Attic construction.

The

use of consoles

at the doors,

the tra-

pezoidal masonry, and the vertical scoring of the individual blocks all find close parallels at Thisbe, and Siphai in southwest Boiotia or at Messene, founded by the Thebans

after Leuktra;

they cannot

be paralleled

in Artika.

Similarly,

stylistic considerations suggest that several towers along the northern Attic border are better understood as Boiotian rather than Athenian. Eleutherai and these towers should probably be associated with the period of Theban hege-

mony under Epameinondas in the second quarter of the fourth century ΒΟ." In short, with the above examples as guides, it seems to me that continued close attention to the walls themselves should yield useful information about

the date and circumstances of their construction, thereby adding to their value as histoncal documents. One other issue of considerable interest, since it bears on the larger question of the Greek economy, is the cost of building a circuit wall. This, in turn, will lead us to the more general topic of this paper, the relationship and role of walls in defining the Greek polıs. It is clear that financing the construction of a city wall was a considerable burden,

though

specific

figures

are hard

to come

by. Those

living in the

settlement to be fortified had to be willing or required to contribute labor or money or both. Inscriptions from Troizen, Oropos, Kolophon, Kos, and Kea

record lists of contributions of money for walls, and figures for individual towers or short stretches of curtain walls survive, but total figures for a whole

circuit do not. The best indication of total cost which I know of is provided by Diodorus Siculus (14.18) in his account of the fortification of Epipolai outside Syracuse by Dionysios in 401 BC:

He gathered the peasants from the countryside, from whom he selected some

60,000

capable men

and parcelled out to them the space to be

walled. For each stade he appointed an architekton and for each plethron a mason, and the laborers from the common people assigned to the task

WALLS AND THE POLIS

47

numbered 200 for each plethron. Besides these, other workers, a multitude in number, quarried out the rough stone and six thousand yoke of

oxen brought it to the appointed place. After describing various incentives to get the work done quickly, Diodorus goes

on: The wall was brought to completion in 20 days. It was 30 stades in length and of corresponding height ... there were lofty towers at frequent intervals and it was constructed of stones four feet long and carefully joined.

Here, then, are the figures for a six kilometer circuit wall of squared blocks with towers: 60,000 laborers with 6000 yoke of oxen for 20 days. We can fuss with the figures a bit, but it would seem that if the labor were actually paid for the total investment would be in the neighborhood of 300 talents, or 1,800,000 daily wages. These costs and Diodorus’ description are worth noting because

they make it clear that fortifications represent by far the greatest physical expression of public, communal participation, whether we think in terms of money, labor, or organization.

This brings us to the question of walls and the polis. Here Mogens Hansen has shaken the foundations. Having created in Copenhagen the Polis Centre, he has asked a deceptively simple question: what defines a polis? We usually

translate the word as city-state and think of it as the basic political and social unit of most of the Greek world. Within the polis structure numerous elements were created or refined, to be admired and transmitted to us today: theater, law, medicine, philosophy, painting, sculpture, architecture, rhetoric, athletics, education, and, of course, democracy. When I was a student and indeed until quite

recently,

I had

no

trouble

defining

a polis. Autonomy,

sovereignty,

coinage, public architecture, a well-defined territory, laws, state cults, and walls are the sorts of features which many of us would include in a definition of what makes a polis. All have been examined by Hansen and his colleagues and all can be shown to have exceptions or problems with using them to recognize a

polts. I find I am reduced to the status of the United States Supreme Court Justice who, after frustrating hearings on the nature and effect of pornography and lengthy considerations of free speech and community standards, finally declared: “I may not be able to define pornography, but I know it when I see it”, That has become

my

attitude toward

the polis, now

that most

of the

defining characteristics have been shown to be unreliable. Even so, I would still be inclined to argue that a substantial circuit wall was

the sine qua non of the Greek polis. While Hansen has shown there are poleis in

48

JOHN McK CAMP II

Greece which were not completely independent, it seems clear that in antiquity autonomy was nonetheless an important civic goal, one that required fortifications. The heading of a list of contributions on the island of Chios in the third century BC states the matter clearly: The following, wishing to govern the country (parrida) free and autonomous for all time according to their purpose provided money freely and gave for the fortification of the walls. (Maier [1951-1961] no. 52). The earliest circuit walls have generally been recognized on the islands, where security was a pressing concern, as neither outside aid nor escape were

usually viable options. Thus the Geometric sites of Donoussa, Aghios Andreas on Siphnos, Zagora on Andros, and Emborio on Chios were all fortified. The adage cited in Plato’s Laws (778d) to the effect that “bronze and iron must form the ramparts of the city rather than rock” has, of course, much earlier

antecedants. Two versions of it survive in Aristeides, attributed to Alkaios. “Not stone nor timber, nor the craft of the joiner make the polis, but wheresoever are men who know how to keep themselves safe, there are walls and there

a pols” (fr. 426 [L&P]; cf. note tbidem and fr. 110.10 [Liberman] with note 120). Active on the island of Lesbos in the early sixth century BC, Alkaios

lived in unruly times in an unruly place and his negative suggests a positive; it seems to me that the very fact he chose to articulate this sentiment implies that at least some, and perhaps many, believed that walls did, indeed, define the

polıs. Other early walls are found in the colonies; best known,

of course, is the

circuit of Smyrna. More recently an early Archaic circuit discovered at Abdera has been associated with an unsuccessful attempt by Klazomenai to colonize

the area in the seventh century, and we have already considered Stageira and Thasos. As walls have not been found in the mother-cities of these colonies which must have been polets in order to send out a colony, the argument goes -

it follows that walls cannot be a feature of the rise of the polıs. One area, however, deserves closer examination because ıt has all the ele-

ments used by different scholars to explain or identify the rise of the polis: the island of Crete. Here we find 1) continuity from the Bronze Age, 2) strong

Oriental influence, 3) early armor and evidence of hoplites, 4) the earliest written law-codes, 5) early temples with sculpture in both stone and bronze.

Crete in the eleventh to seventh centuries BC is an extraordinarily active, progressive area, particularly in comparison with the rest of the Greek world. It was also of course, renowned in the Homeric epics for its numerous poleis, 100 in the Jad

(2.649) and 90 in the Odyssey (19.174). These, along with

WALLS AND THE POLIS

49

well-known references in Hesiod, are the earliest use in Greek literature of the word polis, which in its original sense after all means castle or stronghold.’

Finally, Elaine Matthews has determined that the earliest Greek personal name incorporating the word polis comes

from

Crete in the seventh century.

In-

terestingly enough, Crete also has some of the earliest fortification walls known from

after the collapse

of the

Krzysztof Nowicki have shown

Bronze

Age

palaces.

that as many

Barbara

Hayden

and

as 16 sites dating from the

eleventh to ninth centuries BC were fortified, earlier than most of the other island settlements and at a time when not a single site on the mainland can be shown to have been walled.° Indeed, the known settlements on Crete are huge in comparison to what has been revealed by excavation in Greece proper; this

contrast between the mainland and Crete in the Dark Ages can hardly be emphasized enough. On the basis of all this I would argue that fortifications were, in fact, a sine qua non in the rise of the Greek polis and perhaps the process of city-state formation can most profitably be studied in Iron Age Crete. To move on now to walls and the Classical period. In Aristotle’s day the way

you made a polis was to assemble a population, usually through synotkismos, and place it within a fortified site. Examples abound: Elis, Rhodos, Olynthos, Mantineia, Megalopolis.

Of equal or perhaps greater interest for our inquiry

was how you ended a polis. Two separate instances are reported and are worth noting. According to Xenophon, the Spartans took the city of Mantineia in 385

BC and: After this the wall was torn down and Mantineia was divided into four separate villages, just as the people

had

dwelt in ancient times

(Hell.

5.2.7). And according to Diodorus Siculus, at the end of the Sacred War in 346 BC,

Philip If required the defeated Phokians: to abandon their cities, the walls of which were dismantled. All the cities

of the Phocians were to be razed and the men moved to villages, no one of which should have more than fifty houses, and the villages were to be not less than a stade distant from one another (16.60.2). In short, in both instances, the population was scattered and the walls were torn down. Here, then, is the basic picture of a Classical polis, a critical mass of population and a fortified site. All the rest is window-dressing. Sparta is, of course, the one great exception to the rule that all the polets of the Greek world were fortified, the one city which follows Plato’s “men, not

50

JOHN McK CAMP IT

walls, make the polis” formulation. But I’m not sure this need trouble us un-

duly in view of Sparta’s anomalous behaviour as a polis in virtually all other respects, and in view of the fact that even she was eventually walled, albeit in

the Hellenistic period. For years, with my naive and cheerful handbook definition, I thought the polis ended with the battle of Chaironeia or the death of Alexander the Great. Then one day, in a lecture in Athens, Mogens

Hansen pointed out that the

polis flourished in the Hellenistic period, when several new ones were actually founded.

He’s right, of course, and if we look at how these new poleis were

created, we find that there was a collecting of population, often through synoikismos,

and

the town

was

fortified, such

as Thessalonike,

Demetrias

in

Thessaly, or Ephesos under Lysimachos. Even if the synotkismos is unattested, the walls of these new cities survive, as at Halos or Goritsa, both in Thessaly. Walls continued to be built from scratch, repaired, and maintained until weil

into the Hellenistic period, as we learn from numerous inscriptions. I would argue that essentially the polis ends in the middle years of the second century BC, with the Roman conquest of Greece as a result of the victories at Pydna in 168 BC and Korinth in 146 BC. Dozens or even hundreds of existing poleis soldiered on, of course, for centuries in many cases. But with very few

exceptions no new poleis were founded. However vital the survivors may have been under Roman rule, the polis was now only a fossilized remnant, no longer a creative phenomenon. It is, I think, no coincidence that city walls end at this time as well. I find in going over my

logs that with either Kendrick Pritchett or members

of the

American School of Classical Studies I have visited just over 300 fortified sites

and I can think of no wall in mainland Greece which should be dated after the mid-second century BC. The building inscriptions confirm this impression. Of the close to 100 inscriptions collected, only a handful refer to work on walls done after 150 BC, and even then they usually record repairs done in response

to a specific threat. The Mithradatic Wars led to wall work at Miletos and Tabai and prompted a new fortification of Delos by Triarius in 69 ΒΟ." Other

repairs to walls on Thasos, Paros, and Kalymnos seem to be in response to

piracy." It is interesting to note that the islands, which had the earliest recognized need of fortifications, retain that need longer and later than the other parts of Greece. In short, walls generally seem to stop in the mid-second century BC with the

serious arrival of Rome, and they do not become a feature of the landscape again until the breakdown of security in the third century AD, when we find new

circuits at Athens,

Olympia,

Dion,

Aigina,

and

elsewhere.

There

are

indications that this long hiatus is the result of official Roman policy. In 171

WALLS

AND

THE POLIS

51

BC the Boiotian city of Thisbe sided with Makedonia and was taken by the Romans. In the following year a long senarus consultum was published in both Greek and Latin (/G VII 2225), responding to various requests made by the people

of Thisbe.

Among

the requests

was

one which

was

firmly denied:

permission to rebuild the walls of the city (Fig. 5). Only a small circuit of the akropolis was allowed, for local security. The nearby city of Haliartos was less fortunate, it was razed to the ground and its territory given to the Athenians as a hunting preserve. In 167 BC, according to Livy (45.34), seventy towns in

Epeiros were plundered for booty and then “the walls of the plundered cities were destroyed”. Here, presumably, is the reason one travels through Epeiros today rarely seeing standing fortifications, in marked contrast to other areas of Greece, in particular neighboring Akarnania. It would seem, as a general rule,

that the Romans destroyed and would not have rebuilt the walls of those who actively opposed them, whereas the walls of other poleis were left largely intact. Walls and the polis would seem to me coterminous, both largely as the result of the Roman conquest of Greece.

Roman colonies, such as Korinth, Dion, and Philippi are, I take it, another phenomenon, though there is at least one exception to my notion of the demise of the polis, albeit under Roman impetus. When the new city of Nikopolis was

founded in 31 BC, Augustus turned to the old tactic of a synotkismos, stripping the population of Akarnania. Until the city is more fully explored the date of its circuit walls must remain an open question. From a historical, archaeological, or art historical point of view, Greek walls deserve and reward our close attention. When we look at the institution of the polis at its origin, during its florutt, or at its end, we find walls are there to define

it.

52

JOHN McK CAMP II

ae

SBE AE

.

52 0e +

À

ASUSEERFREN,

1. Inscription for the rebuilding of the walls of Peiraieus (and Athens?): Agora I 7344, dated to the year of the archon Philokles, 392/1 (Hesperia 51 [1982] 42).

Athenian masonry styles

Lesbian Polygonal

\ i]

I \

\ \ 1 7 A 11

Polygonal

|

|

|

|

ἰ

\

Trapezoidal

ft

|

ΠΤ

Î

Isodomic (Ashlar)

Pseudo-Isodomic

2. Greek masonry styles (A. Hooton, adapted from a drawing by WB.

Dinsmoor, Jr.).

|

WALLS AND THE POLIS

43

3. The fortification wall of Phokian Medeon.

|

Ÿ Thisbe

αἱ Pherai 4. A comparison of the walls of Bototian Thisbe and Thessalian Pherai, showing the placement of the towers at the tums in the walls (drawing by A. Hooton; for the originals seen.

3).

54

JOHN McK CAMP II

5. The south wall of Boiotian Thisbe, destroyed by the Romans in 171 BC. Note the angled attachment of the tower to the curtain wall (cf. Fig. 4).

IN τ

.

6, The north fortification wall of Lansa on the Hermos.

WALLS

N

.

AND THE POLIS

‘ae

7. Part of the south wall of Phokian Panopeus.

55

56

JOHN McK CAMP II

BIBLIOGRAPHY Camp, J. 1991. “Notes of the Towers and Borders of Classical Boiotia,” AJA 95: 193-202. Ducrey, P. 1995. “La muraille est-elle un élément constitutif d’une cité?” CPCActs 2: 245256. Hansen, ΜΗ. 1993. “The Polis as a Citizen-State,” CPCActs 1: 7-29. Hayden, B. 1988. “Fortifications of Postpalatial and Early Iron Age Crete,” AA: 1-21. Kakavoyiannis, E. 1977. “Excavations at Pherai, Thessaly, in 1977,” AAA 10: 174-187. Knschen, F. 1922. Die Befestigungen von Herakleia am Latmos, Milet III.2 (Berlin). Maier, F.G. 1958. “Die Stadtmauer von Thisbe,” AM 73: 17-25. Maier, F.G. 1959-1961. Griechische Mauerbauinschrifien (Heidelberg). Nowicki, K. 1992. “Fortifications in Dark Age Krete,” in 5. van de Maele & J. Fossey (eds.), Fortificationes annquae (Amsterdam 1992) 53-76. Raaflaub, K.A. 1993. “Homer to Solon: The Rise of the Polis. The Written Sources,” CPCActs 1: 41-105. Rotroff, 5. ἃ Camp, J. 1996. “The Date of the Third Period of the Pnyx,” Hesperia 65: 271-275.

SELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY ON GREEK WALLS Adam, J.-P. 1982. L’Architecture militaire grecque (Paris). Debord, P. & Descat, R. (eds.}. 1994. Fortifications et defense de territotre en Asie Mineure occidentale et meridionale, REA Vol. 96: Istanbul table-ronde 1993 (Bordeaux). Dodwell, E. 1834. Views and Descriptions of Cyclopian or Pelasgic Remains in Greece and Italy (London). Garlan, Y. 1974. Recherches de poliorcetique grecque (Paris). Karlsson, L. 1992. Fortificanion Towers and Masonry Techniques in the Hegemony of Syracuse 405-211 BC (Stockholm). Lawrence, A.W. 1979. Greek Aims in Fortification (Oxford). Leriche, P. & Treziny, H. (eds.). 1986. La fortification dans l’histoire du monde grec, Valbonne colloquium (1982). Maier, F.G. 1959-1961. Griechische Mauerbauinschriften (Heidelberg). Marsden, E.W. 1969. Greek and Roman Artillery (Oxford). McNicholl, A.W. 1997. Hellenistic Foraficanions from the Aegean to the Euphrates (Oxford). McCredie, J.R. 1966. Fortified Military Camps in Attica (Princeton). Noack, F. 1927. Eleusis (Berlin). Ober, J. 1985. Fortress Amica (Leiden).

Scranton, R. 1941. Greek Walls (Cambridge). Van de Maele, S. & Fossey, J. (eds.). 1992. Fornficationes antiquae (Amsterdam). Winter, F.E. 1971. Greek Fortificanons (Toronto), Wrede, W.

1933. Atusche Mauern

(Athens).

WALLS AND THE POLIS

57

NOTES Among the many approaches used by Mogens Herman Hansen and his colleagues at the Polis Centre to define the ancient Greek polis has been the examination of a broad range of archaeological evidence: public architecture, written law codes, coins, evidence of cult, and fortification walls. I had the pleasure of being asked to comment on the significance of fordGication walls at a conference in Copenhagen in 1994, and I offer here an expanded version of those rernarks in honor of a friend and respected colleague. The proceedings of the conference

ww

are published as CPCAers 2. My paper began life as a response to the contribution on walls and

the polis presented by P. Ducrey and published as Ducrey (1995). An intermediate version of the present paper was delivered as the ninth annual W.K. Pritchett Lecture at the University of California, Berkeley, in November of 1997. - A select bibliography of the works mentioned here and others on Greek walls is included at the end of this paper. Xen. Hell. 4.8.10 and Diod. 14.85.3. The inscriptions are /G IT? 1656-1664 (= Maier [19591961] nos. 1-9) and Agora inventory I 7344 (= Hesperia 51 [1982] 42-43 and pl. 19). Pherai: Kakavoyiannis (1977); Thisbe: Maier (1958).

M

Rotroff & Camp (1996). Camp (1991).

Œœ Ha

Hansen (1993) 9-12 and Raaflaub (1993) 52-53. Nowicki (1992) and Hayden (1988).

9

Krischen (1922).

Miletos: Maier (1959-1961) no. 73; Tabai: Maier (1959-1961) no. 75; and Delos: Maier (1959-

1961} nos. 41-43, Thasos: Maier (1959-1961) no. 56; Paros: Maier (1959-1961) no. 44; and Kalymnos: Maier (1959-1961) no. 45.

Gortyn. The First Seven Hundred Years (Part I)

PAULA PERLMAN

In the course of discussion during the Second Annual Conference of the Copenhagen Polis Centre, August 1994, John Camp challenged the view that the polis did not coalesce before the second half of the eighth century BC with the observation

that several of the characteristic features

of the polts (e.g.

communal cult centers, fortification walls) and of the necessary preconditions to polis formation (e.g. settlement size and density, Near Eastern contacts) may be detected on Crete well before then. Camp wondered whether the polis might

not have emerged somewhat earlier on Crete than elsewhere in the Greek world.' This suggestion together with the work of Mogens

Hansen

and the

members of the Copenhagen Polis Centre inspired the following study which traces the development

of one of the Cretan city-states, Gortyn,

from

the

earliest evidence for settlement in the vicinity of the later Greek polis through the end of the Archaic period (ca. 1200-500 BC). Scholarly interest in Dark Age and Archaic Crete has increased dramatically in the past few decades, but

it remains the case that apart from the work of survey archaeologists little attempt has been made to address processual questions across the Dark Ages (ca.

1100-700 BC) and on into the age of the city-state.’ In part this is perhaps

due to the fact that the material remains of sixth- and fifth-century Crete have been particularly elusive and so discussion of the Archaic Cretan poleis focuses upon the island’s rich epigraphic record. But whatever the reason, the archaeological

record

from

pre-literate

and post-literate

Crete

has not been

brought to bear upon the picture of the early Cretan poleis which emerges from the epigraphic record. This, in a most preliminary way, is what I hope to do for

Gortyn

in this two-part essay. The discussion in Part I focuses upon the

material evidence for these seven hundred years of Gortynian history. Part II, forthcoming in a future volume of Papers from the Copenhagen Polis Centre, is

devoted to the Archaic inscriptions from the temple of Apollo Pythios and the light they shed on Archaic Gortynian society.

PAULA PERLMAN

60

I. The material record (ca. 1200-500 BC) The first settlement in the vicinity of the later polis of Gortyn was established early in the twelfth century (at the beginning of LM IIIC) on the east slope and summit of Hagios Ioannis, part of the ridge which delimits the northern edge of the Mesara plain. The settlement continued through the end of the eighth

century.’ Antonio Di Vita suggests that one of the factors which determined the location of the settlement was the north-south route which passed directly below the eastern slope of Hagios Ioannis and continued on to Prinias, Knossos and the north coast of the island.‘ A stretch of wall (LM IIIC to SubMinoan, ca. 1190-970 BC) located south and east of the settlement has been

identified as a defense wall.’ Late in the ninth century part of the settlement was

destroyed to make

room

for a terrace and open-air sanctuary. In the

eighth century a second nucleus was established east of the Metropolianos river on the south slopes of the hill Profitis Ilias.’ Three phases of this second settlement, all within the Geometric period, have been identified. In its third phase the settlement consisted of modest, one-room houses built on two artificial terraces. Both settlements, this eastern nucleus and the earlier community

on Hagios Ioannis, were abandoned toward the end of the eighth century. The seventh century at Gortyn was marked by temple-building. In the second quarter of the century, the open-air sanctuary on Hagios Ioannis was monumentalized with the construction of a temple with a tripartite cella. The form of the cella has been understood to indicate that the temple belonged to three deities. The votive types suggest a triad of goddesses or perhaps three

hypostases of a single female deity.° There is a thin trickle of votive material across the sixth and fifth centuries, but the end of the seventh century marks

the conclusion of the most active phase of the Pythios was built during the second half of some seven hundred meters southeast of the Within one or two generations after the

sanctuary.” The temple of Apollo the seventh century on the plain foot of Hagios Ioannis.'® construction of the Pythion the

Gortynians began to inscribe their laws upon its walls. The majority of the first

forty entries in the fourth volume of Inscriptiones Crericae were found either in situ inscribed on the exterior walls and the top step of the Pythion, on blocks that clearly belong to the temple but were not found i situ, or on blocks found

in the vicinity of the temple that more than likely come from it (I.Crert. IV 1-5,

7-26).'! The texts were inscribed on the walls of the Pythion piecemeal. Dating to the sixth century and perhaps even as early as the end of the seventh, they are the earliest inscriptions from Gortyn.’ In every case where enough survives

of these texts to determine their nature the inscriptions prove to record laws. At least two inscriptions were added to the exterior of the temple during the

GORTYN.

THE

FIRST

SEVEN

HUNDRED

YEARS

(PART ἢ

61

first half of the fifth century BC (J.Cret. IV 78; 79).'? Neither of these fifth century texts is a law stricto sensu. Both define the status of non-citizen groups within the community. /.Cret. IV 78 guarantees the liberty of a group of people

(τὸν &neAev[-——], 1. 1) who are permitted to reside at Latosion.!* Z.Crer. IV 79 defines the conditions of employment for free and slave laborers (who resided in the polis [Ὁ]: [τοῖς ἐμ πόλι Flouxiovai [IL 9-10)). On current evidence, the Pythion remains the only structure at Gortyn which was put to this use during the sixth and perhaps late seventh century BC. Three joining fragments of an orthostate block found on Hagios Ioannis bear an Archaic inscription (/.Crez. IV 28), and the block probably came from

the sanctuary on Hagios Ioannis.'” The nature of the inscription is unclear. Van Effenterre & Ruzé (Nomima) suggest that it is a curse inscribed by someone, perhaps a foreign workman, whose mother tongue was not Greek.'* We

should not conclude from this inscription that the Gortynians inscribed their public documents on the walls of the temple on Hagios Ioannis. The most famous of Gortyn’s pre-Roman antiquities, the Great Code (I.Cret. IV 72), was inscribed boustrophedon in columns on the inner face of the

walls of a curved structure during the fifth century and reused in the Roman Odeion located below Hagios Ioannis on the east bank of the Metropolianos river.'’ A second set of similarly inscribed blocks, referred to as the Second Code but in fact somewhat earlier than the Great Code (J. Cret. IV 41-50), was reused in a rectangular structure of the Hellenistic period without any regard

for the original disposition of the individual blocks.'* This Hellenistic building, parts of which were incorporated into the Odeion, has been identified as a

public civic building, perhaps a bouleuterion.' Federico Halbherr uncovered some stratified Geometric material (eighth-century BC) beneath the Odeion and traces of walls, perhaps belonging to a stoa, which he dated to the Archaic

period.” Antonio Di Vita’s recent excavations in the same area as those of Halbherr yielded a trickle of residual material from the Proto-Geometric period through the third quarter of the sixth century BC. During the last quarter of the sixth century and again beginning around 450 BC there is a marked increase in the quantity of ceramic evidence.”' It is generally agreed that the building on which the Great Code was inscribed was located in the same vicinity, but foundations of this presumed structure have not been found.” One other Archaic building of the late sixth or early fifth century BC on whose walls inscriptions were published was probably located two hundred meters southwest of the Pythion in the vicinity of, if not directly beneath, the

early Byzantine church at Mavropapas.”’ Spolia reused in the construction of the basilica in the sixth century AD include architectural elements of the late Imperial period (second-third centuries AD) and the Hellenistic period as well

62

PAULA PERLMAN

as wall blocks bearing inscriptions which range in date from the first half of the fifth century

BC

Halbherr, who

through

excavated

the

end

of the

Hellenistic

the basilica in 1893-1894,

period

and

beyond.

argued that all of the

spolia derived from a single Archaic structure which was twice remodeled, once

in the Hellenistic period and again in Roman times. The earliest inscriptions, which date to the first half of the fifth century BC, all seem to concern conflicts

involving property pledged as security (/.Cret. IV 80, 81, 90, 91). One wonders whether the building was in some way associated with disputes concerning pledged property, perhaps as the headquarters of the officials most

closely concerned with such disputes” or as a registry. Alternatively, the inscribing of laws on its walls may

suggest that the building was a temple,

perhaps of Apollo.”’ In addition to the early laws, the Gortynians inscribed decrees (J.Cret. IV 162, 163 [?]), alliances (Z.Crer. TV 165, 167, 170), and the majority of their proxeny decrees (I.Cret. IV 202-206, 208-210, 213-228) on this building during the fourth and third centuries. At about the same time as the construction of this building (ca. 500 BC)

a sanctuary was established

about seven hundred meters to the northeast of the Pythion.” Apart from the Pythion and the sanctuary to its northeast, the Archaic traces in the vicinity of the Roman Odeion, and the Archaic building (or buildings?)

to be associated with the Mavropapas spolia, the Archaic settlement of Gortyn

is largely unknown archaeologically.°” The Pythion inscriptions contribute some additional information concerning the topography of the Archaic community. Temples ((— το]ῖσι | ναοῖσι ) are mentioned in /.Crer. IV 6 in an un-

known context. Whether these temples should be identified with those which are known archaeologically or not cannot be determined. The word agreion (ἀγρῆιον) appears on two joining blocks of a law regulating procedure, perhaps in homicide cases (/.Cret. IV 9a+b). The term is probably connected with the verb ἀγείρω and should mean something like ‘place of assembly’. Noting that the term ‘agora’ occurs in inscriptions of the fifth century in contexts which allow

its identification

as

the

civic

center

of the

polis-town,

Guarducci

suggested that the agreion was the place where the army assembled. To conclude this survey of the material evidence for the early development

of the polts of Gortyn I note the abandonment of three sites and the possible establishment

of one

other.

The

eighth-century

BC

settlement

at Charkia

Pervoli, located a few kilometers northeast of Profitis Ilias, was deserted at the end of the century (ca. 700 BC).*' The settlement consisted of modest houses built on terraces below temenos hundred

and

the summit

substantial

meters

east

temple

of the

of Mt.

(13.95m

settlement

Vourvoulitis. x

on

11.30m) a small

The

were

remains

of a

located

several

rise just north

of the

summit.’* Votive remains suggest that the sanctuary there was still in use

GORTYN.

THE FIRST SEVEN HUNDRED

YEARS

(PART I)

63

during the seventh century BC. The tenth-century BC sanctuary at Kommos situated on the coast to the west of Gortyn flourished until around 600 BC when it was largely abandoned for a period of two centuries.” The settlement at Prinias,

located

about

ten kilometers

north

of Gortyn

along the

route

connecting the Mesara, Knossos and the north coast of Crete, was founded late in the thirteenth century and abandoned by 550 BC.™

Finally, surface

remains in the vicinity of the temple of Artemis near the modern seaside village of Kalamaki,

just two

kilometers

north

of Kommos,

begin

in the seventh

century BC and continue on into the Imperial period.”

Il. Emergence of the polis

Πα. The villages in the hill The settlement on Hagios Ioannis, the earliest settlement at Gortyn, continued through the Dark Ages and survived into the early Archaic period as a religious center of the polis. Godart

attributed its foundation to a fresh incursion of

Mycenaean settlers from the mainland, although to the best of my knowledge there is no reason to exclude the possibility that the settlers of Hagios Ioannis came from elsewhere on the island, or to reject the possibility that the settlers were of Minoan or mixed Minoan-Mycenaean descent.” The later, short-lived settlement on Profitis Ilias, although located in close proximity to the earlier community,

was

not attached

director of the excavations

to it in any obvious

of this later settlement,

way.

Nunzio

Allegro,

suggested that the two

communities represented two strata of a diverse population without further

defining the nature of the two groups.” Was Profitis Ilias ‘colonized’ by the community

on Hagios Ioannis either in response to population pressure or

internal dissension? Or was the settlement established by newcomers

either

from elsewhere on the island or from beyond its shores?” Evidence for the ethnic composition of the early polis of Gortyn including foundation legends, tribal names, toponyms, and month names may be of some use in addressing these questions. Ila.i. The population of the hilltop villages of Gortyn (Crete and Arkadia) Our sources for the foundation

legends of Gortyn

date no earlier than the

fourth century BC. In the Laws, Plato’s Cretan, Kleinias, identifed the Gor-

tynians as Argive in origin,” but Γόρτυς, the eponymous founder of Gortyn, was claimed as the son of either Rhadamanthys according to the Cretans or Tegeates

according

to the Tegeans.“

This Tegean

tradition may

preserve

something of genuine historical significance concerning the early settlement of

64

PAULA PERLMAN

Gortyn. Pausanias narrated that following the death of their siblings Limon

and Skephros, Gortys, the son of Tegeates, together with his brothers Kydon and Archedios voluntarily migrated from Arkadia to Crete where each founded a city: Gortys the city of Gortyn, Kydon that of Kydonia, and Archedios that

of ancient Katre.*' Of course, the Arkadian and Cretan toponyms Gortys and Gortyn lent themselves to the creation of the tradition and it is possible to identify much

later occasions when

the Arkadians may have developed just

such a story for political motives.* But there is another Arkadian myth which suggests to the contrary that the links between Arkadia and Gortyn were early

and historical. Once again, Pausanias provides the narrative. Arkas, the great-grandfather of the Gortys who founded Arkadian Gortys, had three sons with the Dryad nymph throne,

Azan,

Aphidas

and Elatos,

and

Erato following his succession to the an older son, the nothos Autolaos,

whom he fathered prior to becoming king.“ When the three sons of Erato were grown, Arkas divided his realm among them. Autolaos apparently did not share in the patrimony. He appears one other time in the ancient record, again in Pausanias. In describing the sanctuary of Asklepios Pais, which was situated in the vicinity of Arkadian Thelpousa, Pausanias narrated how Autolaos, here

too identified as the bastard son of Arkas, discovered and raised the infant Asklepios.* The story concerning Autolaos and Asklepios is intriguing in light of its setting in Arkadian Thelpousa. A sanctuary of the nymph Thelpousa, the

eponym of Arkadian Thelpousa, is attested in a fragmentary alliance of the Hellenistic period from the Cretan polis of Arkades

where there was also a

sanctuary and festival of Asklepios.* While the ancient tradition nowhere connects Cretan Arkades, located to the southwest of Lasithi in the vicinity of the

modern

village

of Ini,

with

Arkadia,

the

worship

of Thelpousa

and

Asklepios by the Arkades does provide one further link between Arkadia and the Cretan polis of Arkades.* But what has any of this to do with Gortyn?

The dating formulae of the public texts of Gortyn from the Hellenistic period

(laws, decrees, magistral dedications, manumissions)

attest that the

kosmot, the chief magistrates of the pois, belonged to one of at least seven tribes

(nvAat).*? One of the seven phylai is the Doric tribe Dymanes.* Two others, the Ainaones and the Aithaleis, have been associated with Aiolic Achaian.“ Nicholas Jones argues that because the organization of the phyla: in the majority of the Cretan poleis is demonstrably personal rather than territorial, the names of the phyla: should reflect the “actual ethnic make-up of their

memberships” at the time when the tribes received their names.” This combination of Doric and non-Doric tribes on Crete is by no means unique to Gortyn. In nine of the twelve Cretan poleis where the names of phyla: are attested one or at most two of the Doric tribes occur together with other, non-

GORTYN.

THE

FIRST

SEVEN

HUNDRED

YEARS

(PARTI)

65

Doric names.*! The poleis which share this pattern extend from Hierapytna in

the southeast to Knossos and Gortyn in the center of the island.” The fact that throughout Crete the chief magistrates of the city-states belonged to both Doric and non-Doric tribes makes it difficult to accept the picture of the socio-

political organization of the Cretan city-states with their Doric aristocracies

and pre-Doric serfs which is commonly entertained.” The use of tribal names to reconstruct the early development of a particular Cretan polis must take into account the appearance of broader patterns, the most widely attested of which is the combination of Doric and non-Doric phylat noted above. In explanation of this phenomenon we need look no further than the Mycenaean conquest of Crete and the subsequent Dark Age

Migrations which brought Dorians and probably non-Dorians as well to the

island. On the other hand, evidence of arguably local circumstances should not be overlooked. A further difficulty in the use of tribal names in reconstructing the early ethnic composition of a Cretan polis arises from the observation that elsewhere in the Greek world it was not at all uncommon

for

city-states to recast their tribal organization in a variety of ways including the introduction of new tribes. For the Cretan poleis it is not possible to determine more precisely the antiquity of a particular tribal name than the date of its earliest occurrence in the inscriptions. In the case of Gortyn only one of the

tribal names is attested before the Hellenistic period.” There is, moreover, reason to suggest that new tribes may have been introduced to Gortyn sometime after the end of the sixth century BC.” With these reservations in mind, the evidence provided by tribal names for the ethnic composition of early Gortyn should not be dismissed a prion. Of the five tribal names attested at Gortyn which are sufficiently preserved

to examine their origins only one, Αὐτολῆται, has so far defied interpretation.” The tribal name could be connected with the Arkadian figure Autolaos. Both the personal and the tribal name are otherwise unknown, and linguistically the derivation is possible. Disaffected individuals and groups are not uncommon in myths of colonization where their status serves to explain why they chose or

were compelled to leave home.” In such case, it might be suggested that a connection between Autolaos and Arkadian colonization would not be incon-

sistent with the eponym’s representation as a nothos who did not share in his father’s patrimony.

It is interesting to note that the Tegeans

claimed

that

Gortys, Kydon, and Archedios willingly migrated (μετοικῆσαι ἐκουσίως) to Crete. Was there a contesting tradition from Thelpousa concerning Arkadian colonists to Crete who unlike the sons of Tegeates did not choose to relocate but were in some sense compelled to do so?

66

PAULA PERLMAN

It is true nonetheless that the Cretans adduced a local stemma for the eponymous founder of Gortyn and that the precarious position of Autolaos in the Arkadian foundation myth as both a nothos and childless suggests that he may have been a Madeleine

relatively late addition to the legend. On the other hand,

Jost traces

the tradition

of the birth

of Asklepios

in northern

Arkadia, the tradition reflected in the passage from Pausanias, back to the early sixth century BC.” The poet of the Homeric Hymn to Apollo recounted how

the god competed with Ischys, son of Elatos, for the attentions of the daughter

of Azan.‘' While the date of the Homeric Hymn to Apollo, considered to be one of the earliest of the collection, is uncertain, it is probably safe to suggest a terminus ante quem of ca. 575 BC.” Elatos, as already noted, was the son of Arkas and the half brother of Autolaos, as was Azan, the father of the girl in question. Pindar identified the Arkadian Ischys, the son of Elatos, as the mortal

lover of Koronis who was the daughter of Phlegyas and mother of Asklepios in the traditions of Thessaly and Epidauros.°” Whether the unnamed daughter of Azan

of the Homeric

Hymn

is to be understood

as Koronis

or not, in the

Arkadian tradition she is surely to be understood as the mother of Asklepios.™ Autolaos, to be sure, does not appear in the Hymn’s appeal to the tradition, nor is there any reason for him to be mentioned in the Hymn’s account where

Apollo’s conquests and not the Nachleben of his affairs provide the focus.” While it remains true that we cannot determine the antiquity of the tribal name Autolerai at Gortyn, the fact that a case can be made for Autolaos as a

figure in Arkadian myth from the Archaic period admits the possibility that the Gortynian tribal name could be similarly ancient and that the tradition of an Arkadian role in the settlement of Gortyn may not have been a

late one. If

there was an Arkadian element in the population of Gortyn, who, precisely, these Arkadians

were, when

they arrived on Crete, and the nature

of the

process (colonization, migration etc.) which brought them to the island cannot

be determined. The Arkadian traditions addressed thus far lead in two directions — to Tegea in the southeast and to Thelpousa and the region of Azania in the northwest.” It is worth drawing attention to one other region of Arkadia - its southwest — where links with Crete, and with Gortyn

in par-

ticular, seem to concentrate.

Arkadian Gortys, to begin with, is located in this region. To its southwest lies Mt. Lykaion and the sanctuary of Zeus Lykaios, the setting for the Arkadian myth concerning the birth and childhood of Zeus. Similarities in the Arkadian and Cretan traditions concerning Zeus’s birth and childhood have long been recognized. Already in antiquity Pausanias alluded to the competing claims of Arkadia and Crete as the place where Zeus had been born and raised. The Arkadians asserted their priority by arguing that Kretea, a place on the

GORTYN.

THE FIRST SEVEN HUNDRED

YEARS (PART ἢ

67

east side of Mt. Lykaion, and not the island of Crete was the scene of Zeus’s

birth and childhood.” The Cretan tradition may be traced back at least as far as Hesiod, and modern scholars have for the most part identified Crete as the place

where

the

myth

tradition and Gortyn

originated.“

A

connection

between

is preserved in the Etymologicum

the

Magnum

Arkadian where

the

otherwise unattested Geraistion is identified as the place in Arkadia where Zeus was born (or swaddled, orapyavwdnvaı).‘” The same lexicon glosses νύμφαι γεραιστιάδες as the Gortynian

name

for the Cretan nymphs

who

cared for

Zeus.’° Jost cautions that the Arkadian tradition as we know it is probably no

earlier than the synoecism of Megalopolis in 371/0 BC.” Yet an Arkadian role in the early settlement of Crete would provide a suitable context for the transmission of the tradition from Arkadia to the island by ca. 700 BC

(the

floruit of Hesiod). The material record from southwestern Arkadia preserves one final link between this region and Gortyn. Anthony Snodgrass has argued

that the closest parallels for the miniature votive arms and armor from the Archaic phase of the sanctuary of Apollo at Bassai, located in the southwestern corner

of Arkadia

close

to its border

with

Messenia,

come

from

several

locations on Crete including the early sanctuary on Hagios Ioannis.’? Snod-

grass suggested that the miniatures from Bassai were dedicated there by the Cretan mercenaries who, as Pausanias records, had come to the aid of Sparta

during the Second Messenian War.” If, however, Arkadians had immigrated to Crete by ca. 700 BC, it would not be surprising to find Cretan votives at the

sanctuary one-half century later nor would it be as urgent for us to identify a suitable context in the historical record for the dedications.”* The chronology at least leaves open the possibility that individuals of Arkadian descent were

among the settlers of the early hilltop villages of Gortyn. IlLa.ü. The populanon of the hilltop villages of Gortyn (Crete and Lakonta) There is another tradition, preserved this time by Konon, which attributed the foundation of Gortyn to Sparta. Philonomos, who had betrayed Lakonia to the

Spartans and was rewarded by them with the gift of Amyklai, colonized his new possession with Lemnians and Imbrians. In the third generation after the return of the Herakleidai, the descendants of these colonists revolted against the Dorians. Together with some Spartiatai and the Spartans Pollis and Delphos as their leaders, they left Amyklai and immigrated to Crete. En route

they stopped at Melos where some of their party remained behind to settle. The rest went on to Crete where unopposed they took Gortyn.”* Konon’s story

is similar to one told by Plutarch about the colonization of Lyktos (and again

Melos)." In Plutarch’s narrative the Lemnians who accompanied Pollis and Delphos were descendants of the Athenian women whom the Tyrsenioi had

68

PAULA PERLMAN

abducted from Brauron. Having been forced to leave their home, these mixobarbaroi sailed to Tainaron. In gratitude for their help in subduing the helots, the Spartans granted them privileges, including citizenship and the right to intermarry. In time they were suspected of revolutionary plans and were arrested. Escaping from captivity they went to Taygetos where

they joined

forces with the helots. The Spartans made peace with them and sent them off as colonists and kin (ἀποίκους Λακεδαιμονίων καὶ συγγενεῖς νομίζεσθαι) of the Spartans under the leadership of Pollis, Delphos and Krataidas. They colonized Melos and Lyktos. The story of Konon had as its historical context three generations after the return of the Herakleidai, that of Plutarch apparently

Sparta’s conquest of Messenia. Apart from Taras, which is generally agreed to have been a colony of Sparta, the role of Sparta

as a colonizer has been

doubted

in the past.

Recently,

however, Irad Malkin has argued to the contrary that not only was Sparta a

colonizer but that she was somewhat precocious in this regard.”’ He locates the most active period of Spartan colonization before the First Messenian War in the first half of the eighth century BC. It has long been recognized that the appearance of a number of terms associated with the toponym Amyklai in the ancient record for Gortyn and the vicinity suggests that the tradition of Spartan

colonial activity in the Cretan Mesara should be taken seriously.” The earliest such reference occurs in a provision of the Great Code which permits a divorcée accused of having taken property to which she is not entitled from her former husband to defend herself by swearing an oath of denial in the name of Artemis (before the statue of Artemis) Toxitis (at the sanctuary of the goddess) near Amyklaion

(γυναῖκ᾽

ἀπομόσαι

τὰν

Αρτεμιν

nap’

᾿Αμυκλαῖον

πὰρ

τὰν

Τοκσίαν, I. Cret. IV 72116-9). In the third or second century BC the Gortynians entered into an agreement with oi ᾿Αμυκλαῖοι ( Crer. IV 172). Although not enough of the text survives to draw any firm conclusions about the identity and status of the Amyklaioi, there is no good reason not to identify their community

as a polis, possibly a dependent polis of Gortyn.”” The Amyklaion mentioned in the

Great

Code

has

been

understood

to refer

to

a sanctuary

of Apollo

Amyklaios located somewhere in the vicinity of the asty of Gortyn to whose

festival presumably the Gortynian month Amyklaios refers.* Yet Nicola Cucuzza may well be correct in identifying the Amyklaion of the Great Code as

the home of the Amyklaioi.*! Where the community was located is the subject of some controversy. Stephanos claimed that the pods of Cretan Amyklaion was

a harbor town.” Its location has been sought on the coast to the southwest of Phaistos, perhaps in the vicinity of Kommos.®’

Cucuzza

proposes

that the

temple of Artemis near Kalamaki is that of Artemis Toxitis.°* Although surface remains in the vicinity of the temple go back to the seventh century BC, the

GORTYN. THE FIRST SEVEN HUNDRED YEARS (PART ἢ

Great Code

provides the earliest reference to Amyklaion

69

and the earliest

evidence for Gortyn’s interest in the sanctuary of Artemis Toxitis which was located near it. It is, of course,

possible

that the tradition concerning

Sparta’s

lead

in

colonizing the Cretan Mesara was a late one intended to support Gortynian claims to the western Mesara or to further Sparta’s political interests on the

island.°” The location of Amyklaion in the western Mesara perhaps suggested the details of the narrative and in particular the role of Sparta. In such case, we

would be advised to look elsewhere than Lakonia for the origin of the toponym and the month name, An alternative source for the toponym is suggested by the evidence for Phoenician contact with Kommos

from the late tenth to the

mid-eighth century BC. Joseph Shaw suggests that the three-pillared shrine inside the second post-Minoan sanctuary at Kommos (temple B, ca. 800 BC),

was either inspired by Phoenician models or actually built by Phoenician

sailors and merchants

to use during their stopovers.” Amyklai

and its

derivative forms have been traced to semitic mkl.®’ Were the Phoenicians who frequented Kommos

or Resep

Mikal,

responsible for the introduction into the Mesara of mki

who

is identified

with

Apollo

Amyklos

in a bilingual

(Phoenician and syllabic Cypriot) dedication?™ Walter Burkert asserts that the identification of the Phoenician Resep and Apollo occurred on Cyprus in the

twelfth century BC and was from there exported to Lakonia via Crete.*° A passage in the Odyssey, however, encourages us to take seriously this story of Spartan colonization.

Sir Arthur Evans suggested that the topographical

details in Odyssey 3.293-294 (ἔστι δέ τις λισσὴ aineta te εἰς ἅλα πέτρη | ἐσχατιῇ Γόρτυνος ἐν ἠεροειδέϊ πόντῳ) recommend the vicinity of Kommos

as the place

on the outskirts (of the territory) of Gortyn (ἐσχατιῇ Γόρτυνος) where the fleet of Menelaos was driven ashore.” Malkin argues that the Homeric and postHomeric accounts of the nostos of king Menelaos provided Sparta with “a precedent of presence in the areas (particularly North Africa and the western

Mediterranean) in which colonists of Lakonian origins would settie.””' The date when the text of the Odyssey was finalized remains contested, though there is increasing scholarly support in favor of the period from the mid-seventh to the mid-sixth century BC.” In such case, there is no a priori reason to reject

the possibility that Odyssey 3.293-294 preserves traditions developed in the course of the first half of the eighth century BC

attesting Spartan colonial

interest in the Cretan Mesara.

Malkin suggests that a likely historical context for the earliest wave

of

Spartan colonization was the integration of pre-Doric Amyklai into the pods as

the fifth Spartan obe (by 750 BC).” As part of this political settlement the central authority of Sparta helped the inhabitants of Amyklai who could not or

70

PAULA PERLMAN

would not be assimilated to organize colonial expeditions. It is tempting to propose that the eighth-century BC settlements on Profitis Ilias and perhaps at Charkia Pervoli as well were settled by colonists from Lakonia. The colonists

would have included Amyklaians and others, but the expeditions were led by Spartans and regarded as Spartan undertakings.” There is, to be sure, little evidence apart from the tradition, the toponym and the calendar in support of a Spartan element in the population of early Gortyn. Dorians of the tribe Dymanes might have migrated to the Mesara during the Dark Ages. On the other hand, the absence from the record of late Geometric Lakonian pottery or of typically Spartan institutions like the ephorate should not be taken as decisive arguments against an eighth-century Spartan colony.” The failure of Spartan institutions to leave an imprint upon the political contours of Gortyn may perhaps be attributed to the relatively late arrival of the Lakonians to the

Mesara, to a process of political accommodation and compromise which eased their incorporation

into

the

community,

or to

their relative

weakness

of

numbers. The absence of eighth-century Lakonian pottery at Spartan Taras suggests

that

the

absence

of Lakonian

pottery

in the

Mesara

does

not

necessarily mean the absence of Spartans.” Finally, the location of the new settlement close to an older one on Hagios Ioannis shares what appears to have been a Spartan preference in locating their colonial settlements in or near

earlier ones.” Even if we grant that the very existence of the community of the Amyklaioi suggests a Spartan role in the early settlement of Gortyn, and Cucuzza is correct

in locating

this community

in the

Kommos-Kalamaki

region,

on

current evidence it is not possible to determine the relationship between the

foundation of this community and the arrival to the Mesara of colonists from Lakonia during the first half of the eighth century BC, the most likely period

of Spartan colonization. As noted above, the surface remains in the vicinity of the temple of Artemis nap’

᾿Αμυκλαῖον go back only as early as the seventh

century BC. The settlement of Amyklaion has not been located. The simplest hypothesis would be that the sanctuary of Artemis belonged to the settlement of Amyklaion and that the settlement was at least as early as the sanctuary. On this hypothesis we could conclude either that Amyklaion was indeed a settle-

ment of the eighth century BC colonists from Lakonia or that it was a later foundation established during the seventh century BC, perhaps by the descendants of those Lakonians who had settled in the central Mesara at Gortyn. On the basis of the passage from the Odyssey we may conclude that by at least the mid-sixth century BC Gortyn had extended her territory to the west as far as the coast in the vicinity of Kommos-Kalamaki.

If further study

of the

archaeological record confirms the seventh-century date for the commence-

GORTYN. THE FIRST

SEVEN

HUNDRED

YEARS

(PART ἢ

71

ment of activity in the vicinity of the temple of Artemis, perhaps its foundation and that of the community of the Amyklaioi should be understood in the context of Gortynian territorial expansion and consolidation during the seventh

century BC. If so, the passage from Odyssey 3 might be understood to reflect not only Sparta’s role in the early eighth-century settlement of Gortyn, but also

a later stage of state development in the seventh. Homer’s Gortyn included a fortified settlement (77. 2.646) and a territory with clearly defined borders (Od. 3.293-296), two features of the Homeric polis

which Kurt Raaflaub adduces in support of his view that Homeric society is a largely consistent depiction of a real society, roughly contemporary with the poet’s own, and that the polis in an early stage of its evolution is a pervasive feature of the Homeric

world.”

We

have

already

observed

that if the de-

scription of Gortyn in the Catalogue of Ships as walled (Γόρτυνα τειχιόεσσαν) is to be accepted as historically accurate then on current evidence it must refer to the settlement on Hagios Ioannis. The decision late in the ninth century BC

to transform part of the settlement into public space surely attests the existence by that time of a central authority of sufficient influence to organize and effect the transition in this balancing of private and corporate interests. The material

remains of the early settlement on Hagios Ioannis in conjunction with the evidence from the Jad suggest that the first stage in the evolution of the polis of Gortyn should be recognized in this early community. On current evidence,

the description in the Odyssey of where Menelaos came to shore on Crete “at the Gortynian frontier” (ἐσχατιῇ Γόρτυνος) more likely reflects the geopolitical

conditions of the seventh or even the early sixth century BC, the period after the abandonment of the hilltop villages, than an earlier time. It is to this next stage in the development of Gortyn that we now turn.

II.b. The settlement in the plain The inhabitants of the three Geometric settlements at Hagios Ioannis, Profitis

Ilias, and Charkia Pervoli appear to have abandoned their hilltop villages around 700 BC. We do not know where the former members of these three communities built their new homes, nor is there scholarly consensus about the

organization of the early Archaic community; some scholars suggest that in its earliest phase the community in the plain was settled κατὰ κώμας, while others view the process of relocating from the hills to the plain as one of synoikismos.” It is, of course, possible that the new community in the plain was politically unified while settled κατὰ κώμας. In any event, it should be noted that although the location of the Archaic

(and Classical) asty of Gortyn remains elusive,

wherever the new residential district or districts were located the sanctuary on Hagios

Ioannis

continued

to serve

as its religious

focus

for the next two

72

PAULA PERLMAN

generations.

Furthermore,

it seems

to have

taken the new

community

a

generation or so after the abandonment of the old settlements to rebuild and

reorganize. The construction of the temple in the sanctuary on Hagios Ioannis during the second quarter of the seventh century BC provides the earliest evidence of a new political apparatus capable of marshalling and deploying public resources on behalf of the community. The votive deposits suggest that the venerable sanctuary on Hagios Ioannis was more or less abandoned around the time when the Pythion was established in the second half of the seventh

century BC.'” The shift in the religious focus of the community away from this old sanctuary to the new temple in the plain should be understood to reflect a new stage in the development of the spatial, religious and social organization of the pois. The excavators of Gortyn identify two locations as agoras, in the sense of

public centers, during the Archaic

and

Classical periods:

the area of the

Pythion and that of the Odeion where, as previously mentioned, Archaic walls,

possibly belonging to a stoa, have been identified. Inscriptions from Gortyn dating to the first half of the fifth century BC refer to an agora (singular) in contexts which clearly indicate that it was the civic center of the community. Declarations and renunciations of adoptions were to be made before the assembled people in the agora from the stone where other proclamations were made (1 Cret. IV 72x35-36; 72xil 0-14; cf. I. Cret. IV 80.14), and testimony was

given before witnesses in the agora (1 Cret. IV 75A.8; 81.11).'°' A law from the Second Code (/.Cret. IV 43Bb) provides a clue as to its location. The law permitted a Gortynian to divert water from the river to his own property so

long as he “leaves the flow as much as the bridge holds at the agora, or more, but not less” (τὰν δὲ ῥοὰν λείπεν ὅττον κατέκει à ἐπ᾽ ἀγορᾶι δέπυρα E πλίον, μεῖον δὲ μή). The Pythion is located one hundred meters to the west of an ancient

stream bed which may have marked

the eastern limit of the Archaic and

Classical asty.'°* The course of the much larger Metropolianos river lies just to the west of the Roman Odeion. Its proximity to the foundations associated with the original publication of the Great Code and with the later Hellenistic and Roman reuse of both the Second and the Great Codes makes it very likely that the agora to which the inscriptions refer was located in the vicinity of the Roman Odeion. While certainty is not possible, continuity of function suggests that the area had served as the civic center of the community from at least the time when the Archaic building (stoa?) traces of whose walls have been found

in the area was in use. The precise date of these walls is not known. Ceramic evidence from the recent excavations in the vicinity of the Roman

Odeion

albeit unstratified suggests limited activity in the area from at least the eighth century BC (that is before the relocation of the population from the hills to the

GORTYN. THE FIRST SEVEN

HUNDRED

YEARS

(PARTI)

73

plain) through the Archaic period. A spike in the quantity of ceramic material dating to the final quarter of the sixth century BC may suggest a change in the patterns of use of the area at that time, but not necessarily a change in its

function.’ If the agora of the community was located in the vicinity of the later Odeion, why then did the Gortynians first inscribe their laws on the walls of the Pythion at a distance of some five hundred meters from their civic center? The inscribing habits of other Archaic Cretan poleis may shed some light on this question.

The majority of the Archaic laws from Crete were inscribed on the walls of public buildings rather than on free-standing monuments.'“ Although we do not for the most part know the function of these buildings, we can conclude

that in addition to Gortyn the earliest laws from Dreros and from Axos were similarly inscribed on the walls of temples. At Dreros laws were published on

the walls of the temple of Apollo Delphinios which was located adjacent to the civic center of the asty, an area (ca. 40.0m Χ 20-30.0m) with theatral steps at

its southwest corner, in the saddle between the two akropoleis.'°’ The majority of the Archaic laws from Axos are likely to have been published on the walls of the Archaic temple on the akropolis (Temple I).'® The protecting deity of Axos was probably Apollo whose

son the eponymous

ancestor of the pos,

Oaxos, was said to have been.’ It is possible that Temple I should be attributed to him.'™ The location of the public center of the Archaic asry of Axos is not known. At least two and possibly all three of the inscribed temples of Crete belonged

to Apollo. The epithets Pythios and Delphinios indicate that by the Hellenistic period the cults of Apollo that were attached to the temples at Gortyn and Dreros were Delphic.'” The laws of Axos may also have been inscribed on the

walls of a temple associated with a cult of Delphic Apollo, although whether Temple I was a temple of Apollo and if so whether it was associated with the Delphic

cult which

is reflected

in the

coins

cannot

be

determined

with

certainty. A connection between the island of Crete and the sanctuary of Apollo at Delphi may be traced back at least as far as the Homeric Hymn to Apollo (ca. 575 BC)

and Apollo’s choice of sailors from Knossos to serve as

priests (6pyeiovac) at his new sanctuary.''° The Hymn permits us to suggest that Delphic Apollo was not a latecomer to Crete and that the connection there

between inscribed laws and Delphic Apollo was early.''' This connection may provide an answer to the question why the Gortynians published their laws on

the temple of Apollo rather than on the walls of a public building in the agora where we know various legal proceedings were conducted by the early fifth

century BC.'!? In the case of Dreros, the temple of Apollo Delphinios, the appropriate locus for the publication of laws, was conveniently situated next

74

PAULA PERLMAN

to the agora.''” The temple of Apollo at Gortyn, on the other hand, was for some reason built at a distance from the agora. When several decades later the Gortynians determined to inscribe their laws, convenience did not win out over

the more important consideration that the laws ought to be published on the

walls of the temple of Delphic Apollo.''* While the location of the Pythion, some five hundred meters to the southeast

of the ancient civic center near what was perhaps the eastern boundary of the Archaic and Classical asty defies explanation,'’? whatever the reasons behind the choice of location, the decision to monumentalize

the cult of Apollo at

Gortyn and the subsequent abandonment of the sanctuary on Hagios Ioannis suggest that the religious contours of the community had changed. What significance should we attach to these developments? Were they related? Although it is possible that Apollo (or a male deity who was at some point iden-

tified with Apollo) was worshipped at the earlier sanctuary on Hagios Ioannis, the votive-types strongly suggest that a goddess (or goddesses) rather than a god was the focus of the cult. The name of Apollo appears in two of the five Archaic and Classical inscriptions from Gortyn which mention the names of

gods.''° The earlier of the two comes from the Pythion and preserves a list (or perhaps a calendar) of sacrifices.''’ The second consists of regulations for oathtaking in cases (concerning inheritance?) which involve a value of ten staters

or more.'"” The only epithet attested in the early (pre-Hellenistic) inscriptions from Gortyn

is that of (Artemis) Toxitis. Divine epithets are, however,

re-

flected in the names of the Gortynian months. Although only one of the month names occurs in an Archaic document (Welchanios, 1. Crer. IV 3), all of them are likely to be early and so may be taken to reflect cults of the Archaic state

if not still earlier conditions. Of the six month names preserved in full, three of them, Amyklaios, Kanneios (Karneios) and Leschanorios, are attested else-

where as epithets of Apollo.''? There is no question that Apollo was one of the most important gods of the community in the plain. The month names which are linked to his cults may provide a clue as to the reason why this was so.

Even after the abandonment of the hilltop settlement ca. 700 BC the old sanctuary on Hagios Ioannis must have continued to be more closely associated with those members of the new community who had formerly resided on Hagios Ioannis and with their descendants than with those who had moved to the plain from other villages. Perhaps the new temple to Apollo was intended to compromise if not eliminate a source of authority and privilege which

one segment

of the population

derived from its association with the

earlier sanctuary. The Apolline months, each of which attests a different ethnic origin, further suggest that Apollo and his cults at Gortyn may have served to

consolidate the ethnically diverse community in the plain.

GORTYN.

On

Crete

THE FIRST SEVEN HUNDRED

the month

name

Kanneios

YEARS

(Karneios)

(PART ἢ

occurs

75

at Gortyn

and

Knossos.!? Beyond the shores of the island Apollo Karneios is attested widely - through the month name Karneios, the festival Karneia, and the priesthoods

of his cult - and almost exclusively in Doric cities.'”' The distribution of the month Karneios and the god’s title which identifies him as the “ram god” suggest that he was in origin a god of Doric-speaking nomadic pastoralists. The

cult of Apollo Karneios may well have been carried to the island by Doric speakers during the Dark Ages. On the other hand, Sparta exported the cult to her colonies

Taras

and

Thera,

and

from

Thera

the cult was

taken

to

Kyrene.'”? Perhaps the month name Karneios should be included among the scraps of evidence which help to shore up the tradition preserved by Konon

that a Spartan colonial expedition settled at Gortyn.'?”” At any rate, Apollo Kameios is clearly Doric. The

month

᾿Αμυκλαῖος

name

occurs

Amyklaios

is attested

in a dedication

only at Gortyn.

to Apollo

from

The

the god’s

cult title

sanctuary

at

Idalion, Cyprus.’ A less Hellenized form of the epithet, ” AuuxAoc, is found in the bilingual dedication to Resep Mikal and Apollo Amyklos also from Apollo’s

sanctuary at Idalion.'?* The suggestion that the month name (and the toponym Amyklaion)

were introduced into the Mesara by a colonial expedition from

Sparta has already been discussed.'*° Does the month name preserve the name of a festival celebrated in honor of Apollo Amyklaios? Apollo was associated

with Hyakinthos and the Hyakinthia in Lakonian Amyklai.'”’ A festival of this name is mentioned in the fifth century BC agreement of Knossos, Tylissos and Argos, although it is impossible to tell from the context which polis sponsored it. The month name Βακίνθιος (Hyakinthios) is attested at Lato, Malla and

perhaps at Gortyn.'” As Malkin notes, the fact that Amyklai and Apollo rather than Hyakinthos appear “to have been emphasized ... may lend further support

to the historicity of Amyklaion (sc. Gortyn?) as a foundation from Lakonia,

with perhaps most of the colonists originating in Amyklai”.'” Whencesoever the month name came to Crete and whatever religious significance we should attribute to it, the association with Apollo is likely to have had non-Doric

connotations.'*! Our

earliest evidence

for Leschanorios

as a title of Apollo

occurs

in a

fragment of the Stoic philosopher Kleanthes (331-232 BC?).'’” The epithet identified Apollo

as the protector of the Aéoyn, the place where

citizens

assembled.'*> The month name Λεσχανόριος is attested on Crete not only at Gortyn but also in an inscription which was found in the southwest

Crete

between Matala and Akrotiri Melissa in the vicinity of what may have been

ancient Bionnos.'” What survives of the text concerns judicial procedure. The toponym

Psycheion

(Akrotiri

Melissa?)

is preserved

suggesting

that

the

76

PAULA PERLMAN

document may be an interstate agreement of some sort, perhaps between Psycheion and Bionnos, but it is impossible to identify the polis whose calendar

included the month Leschanorios. Outside of Crete, Leschanorios is attested in three Thessalian calendars, that of Meliteia in Achaia Phthiotis, Skotoussa in Pelasgiotis, and

in the late “Thessalian”

calendar which

was shared by

Thessaliotis, Pelasgiotis, and Hestiaiotis.’* The related month name Λεσχανάavo occurs in Tegea.'” The geographic distribution of this month Crete

(Gortyn

and

Bionnos?/Psycheion?),

Thessaly

and

name --

probably Arkadia

(Tegea) is reflected as well in the tribal names attested at Gortyn where we find both the Aiolic Achaian (Thessalian) Ainaones and Aithaleis and the perhaps

Arkadian Autoletai.'” As Leschanorios the god Apollo would seem to denote yet another ethno-linguistic component of the Gortynian community. There is no question that hereditary cult associations provided an important

source of prestige and authority for elite families. We should probably conclude that the cult on Hagios

Ioannis

functioned

Gortyn’s elite - namely those families who

in this way

for a segment

of

traced their origins back to the

village on the akropolis.'* The ethno-linguistic map of the Apolline months in the Gortynian calender (Aiolic Achaian, Doric, and Arkadian), on the other hand, replicates the map

of Gortynian tribal names, suggesting that Apollo

may have appealed to the descendants of the diverse population which had joined together to form the new community at the beginning of the seventh

century. The decision to build a temple for Apollo should perhaps be understood within the context of elite competition and the desire on the part of a Majority or vocal minority to challenge a source of authority which benefitted

some families to the exclusion of others. Looking beyond the asty, there is little that can be said about the relations

of the community in the plain with her neighbors during the Archaic period.'” We

have previously argued

that Odyssey 3.293-296

may be understood

to

indicate that Gortyn had expanded her territory west to the coast by the mid-

sixth century BC. The suggestion proposed earlier that this expansion occurred during the early Archaic period (seventh or early sixth century BC) was based largely on the answer to the question when the text of the Odyssey was finally crystallized as well as the material evidence for the date of the foundation of the sanctuary

of Artemis

near Kalamaki.

It was

Amyklaion was located in the Kommos-Kalamaki

suggested

further that if

region Gortyn may have

established this settlement in order to help consolidate her territory in the west. Mention has also been made of the abandonment of the sanctuary at Kommos sometime

before

associated? Was

the

end

of the

the abandonment

seventh

century.

Were

these

two

events

of the sanctuary and port at Kommos

a

consequence of Gortyn’s expansion?'* Alan Johnston suggests that the fate of

GORTYN. THE FIRST SEVEN HUNDRED

YEARS

(PART ἢ

77

Kommos depended upon the development of the Greek colonies in North Africa. A trading station was established at Kommos around 630 BC to service the new colonies and it declined a generation or so later when the colonies

achieved a degree of self-sufficiency.'*’ This does not explain the abandonment of the tenth-century BC sanctuary, unless we are to understand that the co-

lonial trade had somehow monopolized the sanctuary at the expense of other sources of patronage. Finally, the eclipse of Prinias by the middle of the sixth

century may perhaps be attributed to Gortynian expansion towards the north

and Knossos.'*”

III. Conclusions

The earliest settlement in the vicinity of the later Greek polis of Gortyn was established on Hagios Ioannis by the beginning of LM HIC (ca. 1200 BC). At the time of its foundation the population of the area of Crete including the

Mesara where mainlanders had come during LM II-LM IIIB (ca. 1425-1200 BC) to serve or to rule probably included a large number of individuals of mixed

(Minoan-mainlander)

descent.'* It is possible that the tribal names

Ainaones, Aithaleis and Autoletai and the god Leschanorios came to Crete with these mainlanders. Doric-speakers may have joined this settlement in the

course of the Dark Age, bringing with them their tribes (Dymanes) and their gods

(Karneios).

By the eighth century BC,

when

established nearby on Profitis Ilias, the community

a new

community

on Hagios

was

Ioannis was

walled and enjoyed a central authority capable of organizing communal space and deploying community resources, both indications of the emerging polis. We do not know who established the new settlement on Profitis Ilias or why, but

both Sparta and Arkadia (especially Tegea) claimed to have played a role in the foundation of Gortyn. The first half of the eighth century BC is the most likely

time for Sparta to have sent an expedition to Crete. Perhaps members of this expedition played a part in establishing the new village. The toponym Amyklaion and the god (Apollo) Amyklaios are likely to have been introduced by

these settlers the majority of whom may have come from Lakonian Amyklai. Arkadia’s claim to a role in the development of early Gortyn is less secure. Apart from the tradition that Gortys, the eponymous ancestor of the pois, was

the son of Tegeates, we find the toponym Gortyn, the Gortynian tribal name Autoletai, and the Tegean month Leschanasios which may be compared with

Gortynian Leschanorios. At the end of the eighth century BC the villages of Hagios Ioannis, Profitis

Ilias and Charkia Pervoli were abandoned, perhaps in part in response to

78

PAULA PERLMAN

earthquake damage. It is likely that the residents of these villages established a new community, perhaps settled κατὰ κώμας, at the northern edge of the Mesara below the ridge where formerly they had resided. Members of the new community may have included the descendants of Minoans and ‘Mayflower’

Greeks who had come to Crete during the Bronze Age, old Doric families who had sailed to the island during the Dark Age migrations as well as more recent settlers from Lakonia (Dorians and non-Dorians) and perhaps Arkadia. The tribal names of the Gortynian polis not only attest this ethnic diversity but also

suggest an ethnically diverse elite. On current evidence, the earliest monumental expression of the new community in the plain was the construction of a temple (ca. 675-650 BC) in the ninth-century BC sanctuary on Hagios Ioannis. By the end of the seventh century the polis had established its agora in the vicinity of the Roman Odeion

and erected a temple to Apollo in the plain to the southeast. The construction of this new temple and the subsequent abandonment of the sanctuary on Hagios Ioannis reflect an important stage in the development of Gortyn as the

elite of the maturing polis competed for control of the community’s sources of privilege and authority. Either in the seventh century or at the beginning of the sixth the community in the plain had extended its control west to the coast, perhaps establishing a settlement called Amyklaion in the vicinity of Kalamaki to help consolidate territorial gains won probably at the expense of Phaistos. By then (the early sixth century BC) the Gortynians had begun to inscribe their

laws upon the walls of the Pythion, the topic of Part II of this study. The abandonment of Prinias by the middle of the sixth century may be attributed to the expansion of Gortyn north in the direction of Knossos. The end of the sixth century witnessed the foundation of a new sanctuary, perhaps of Demeter and Kore, seven hundred meters to the northeast of the Pythion. On current evidence no explanation for the location of this sanctuary is suggested. Finally, also around 500 BC the community erected a public building in the vicinity of the early Byzantine church at Mavropapas. The answer to the question why the Gortynians inscribed certain of their laws on the exterior of the walls of this building at a time when (first half of the fifth century BC) we may be certain that the area of the Roman Odeion served as the civic center of the community depends

largely upon

its identification as a temple

or as a secular public

structure. If the former, we might appeal to the Cretan connection between temples and the inscribing of laws. If the latter, we shall have to rethink our

notions of the organization of the community’s civic life.

GORTYN.

THE FIRST SEVEN HUNDRED

YEARS (PART ἢ

79

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ἢ

81

Masson, O. 1960. “Cultes indigénes, cultes grecs et cultes orientaux 4 Chypre,” in Elements orientaux dans la religion grecque ancienne. Colloque internationale du Centre d'études supérieures spécialisé d'histoire des religions de Strasbourg 22-24 mai 1958 (Paris) 129-142.

Masson, O. 1983. Les inscriptions chypriotes syllabiques. Recueil critique et commenté, Etudes chypriotes 1 (Paris). Meinel, R. 1980. Das Odeion. Untersuchungen an überdachten antiken Theatergebaiiden, Europäische Hochschulschriften 28:11 (Frankfurt). Miller, A. 1986. From Delos to Delphi A Literary Study of the Homeric Hymn to Apollo, Mnemosyne Suppi. 93 (Leiden). Mitchell, L.G. & Rhodes, P.J. (eds.), 1997. The Development of the Polis in Archaic Greece (London & New York). Musti, D. εἰ al. (eds.). 1991. La Transizione dal miceneo all’alto arcaismo. Dal palazzo alla ciuà. Atti del Convegno Internazionale. Roma, 14-19 marzo 1988 (Rome). Nagy, G. 1992. “Homeric Questions,” TAPA 122: 17-60. Nielsen, T.H. & Roy, J. 1998. “The Azanians of Northern Arkadia,” ClMed 49: 5-44. Nowicki, K. 1987. “The History and Setting of the Town at Karphi,” Studi micenei ed egeoanatolict 85: 235-256. Nowicki, K.

1992. “Fortification in Dark Age Krete,” in 5. Van de Maele & J.M. Fossey

(eds.), Fortificaniones Anriquae (Amsterdam) 53-78. Osbome, R. 1997. “Law and Laws. How do we Join up the Dots?” in Mitchell & Rhodes (1997) 74-82. Perlman, P. 1996. “Πόλις ᾽Ὑπήχοος. The Dependent Poks and Crete,” CPCActs 3: 233287. Pernier, L. 1929. “L’Odeum nell’ ‘agora’ di Gortina presso il Leteo,” ASAzene 8-9: 1-69. Pettersson, M. 1992. Cults of Apollo at Sparta. The Hyakinthia, the Gymnopaidiai and the Karneia, Skrifter Utgruna av Svenska Institutet i Athen, 8°, 12 (Stockholm). Raaflaub, K.A.

1993.

“Homer

to Solon. The

Rise of the Polis. The Written

Sources,”

CPCAets 1: 41-105. Raaflaub, K.A. 1997. “Soldiers, Citizens and the Evolution of the Early Greek Polis,” in Mitchell & Rhodes (1997) 49-59.

Ricciardi, M. 1986-87 (1991). “Il tempio di Apollo Pizio a Gortina,” ASAtene 64-65: 7131. Rizza, G. 1967-68, “Le terrecotte di Axos,” ASAtene 45-46: 211-302. Rizza, G. 1968. “La scultura in pietra, i bronzi figurati e la plastica fittile,” in Rizza & Scrinan (1968)

155-273.

Rizza, G. 1991. “Prinias. La cirtä arcaica sulla Patela,” in Musti et αἱ, (1991) 331-347. Rizza, G. & Scrinari, S.M.V. 1968. I santuario sull’acropoli di Gortina I, Monografia della Scuola archeologica di Atene e delle missione italiane in Oriente, Π (Rome).

Samuel, A.E. 1972. Greek and Roman Chronology. Calendars and Years in Classical Antiquity, Handbuch der Alterrumswissenschaft 1.7 (Munich). Sanders, I.F. 1982. Roman Crete. An Archaeological Survey and Gazetteer of Late Hellenistic, Roman and Early Byzantine Crete (Warminster), Scrinan, S.M.V. 1968. “Lo scavo del tempio sulla sommita del colle,” in Rizza & Scrinan (1968) 3-96. Shaw, J.W. 1978, “Excavations at Kommos (Crete} during 1977,” Hesperia 47: 111-154. Shaw, J.W. 1989. “Phoenicians in Southern Crete,” AJA 93: 165-183. Shoe, L.T. 1936. Profiles of Greek Moldings (Cambridge, MA). Simpson, H.R. et al. 1995. “The Archaeological Survey of the Kommos Area,” in J. Shaw & M. Shaw (eds.), Kommos I. The Kommos Region and Houses of the Minoan Town (Princeton) 325-402. Snodgrass, A.M. 1974. “Cretans in Arcadia,” in Annchità Cretesi. Studi in onore di Doro Levi vol. 2 (Catania)

196-201.

PAULA PERLMAN

82

Snodgrass, A.M. 1980. Archaic Greece. The Age of Experiment (Berkeley & Los Angeles). Snodgrass, A.M. 1993. “The Rise of the Polis. The Archaeological Evidence,” CPCActs 1:

30-40. van Effenterre, H. 1946. “Inscriptions archaiques crétoises,” BCH 70: 588-606. van Effenterre, H. 1991a. “Diversité dialectale de la Crète,” in Brixhe (1991a) 79-83. van Effenterre, H. 1991b. “Dévelopements territoriaux dans la Créte post minoenne,” in Musti et al. (1991) 197-206. van Effenterre, H. 1992. “Dreros,” in J.W. Myers, E.E. Myers, ἃ G. Cadogan

(eds.), The

Aerial Atlas of Ancient Crete (Berkely, Los Angeles) 86-90. van Effenterre, H. & M. 1985. “Nouvelles lois archaiques de Lyttos,” BCH 109: 157-188. Verbruggen, H. 1981. Le Zeus crétois (Paris).

Viviers, D. 1994. “La cité de Dattalla et expansion territoriale de Lyktos en Crète centrale,” BCH 118: 229-259. Vollgraff, W. 1948. Le Decrér d’Argos Relanf à un Pacte entre Knossos et Tylissos (Amsterdam). Willetts, R.F. 1955. Anistocratic Society in Ancient Crete (London). Willetts, R.F. 1962. Cretan Cults and Fesnvals (London).

NOTES For the emergence of the polis in the second half of the eighth century, see ¢.g. Snodgrass (1980); (1993). There are important exceptions. Notably at the 1988 Rome conference on the transition from the

Mycenaean to the Archaic ages (Musti εἰ al. [1991]} sixteen of the forty-five papers focussed on Crete. Note also Coldstream ([1984]; [1986]; [1991]; [1994]) on the formation of the pots of Knossos and Cucuzza

(19973) on polis formation in the Mesara.

Kanta (1980) 91-92; Di Vita (1991). This route was exploited from at least the end of the ninth century BC.

Rizza & Scrinari (1968) 21-22; cf. Hayden (1988) 12-13; Nowicki (1992). In the Catalogue of Ships, Gortyn was τειχιόεσσα (Hom. {1 2.646). The historicity of the Catalogue of Ships, its date, and in particular the questions whether the epithets for place names are conventional and standardized or specialized and if so whether they were accurately attached to the place names are all open to debate. Those who agree that the Catalogue is historical do not all agree on the chronological period which it reflects. See Kirk (1985) 166-240, esp. 173-177 (epithets) and 237240 (chronological context), who concludes that the epithets are for the most part standardized

and that the Cretan portion of the Catalogue seems to reflect Dark Age conditions.

=

Di Vita (1991). Allegro (1991). Scrinari (1968} 23-56; Di Vita (1991) 315. A small number of armed Daedalic terracotta figurines together with miniature terracotta votive shields and miniature bronze votive weapons

and arms of the early Archaic period (shields, helmets, cuirasses and mitrai) found on the akropolis suggest the worship there of the goddess as warrior (Levi [1955-56] 260-266). For the sixth- and fifth-century votive material, see Rizza (1968) 191-193, nos. 305-323; for the temple in the Classical and Hellenistic periods, see Scrinari (1968) 59-63. Renewed interest in the sanctuary late in the Classical or early in the Hellenistic period is evidenced by an increase in

the quantity of votive materia]. Athene-type figurines from this period indicate that the earlier armed goddess worshipped in the venerable sanctuary on Hagios Ioannis had come to be identified with Athene, probably sumamed Poltouchos (Rizza [1968] 249-250). Athene Poliouchos

was included among the oath gods in the treaty of Gortyn with Sybrita (1. Crer. IV 183, late thirdearly second century BC) and in a second Hellenistic treaty from Gortyn where she occurs in the oath

of Gortyn’s

treaty partner,

Arkades

(/.Cret.

TV

171, mid-third

century

BC).

Gortynian

tetradrachms of the late second or early first century BC depict the armed goddess on the obverse

GORTYN.

THE FIRST SEVEN HUNDRED

YEARS (PART ἢ

83

(Le Rider [1966] 300). 10.

Ricciardi (1991). As is clear from the most recent examination of the Pythion, the date of the inscriptions from the temple's walls continues to play a major role in determining the date of its construction (Ricciardi (1991]

11.

56-57).

I.Crer. IV 6, 27 and 30 were probably inscribed on the Pythion. For their provenience, see the discussion in 1 Crez. IV. The remaining fragments of Archaic inscriptions, /.Crer. TV 29, 31-38, and 40, were for the most part found reused in the Odeion or in private homes. Their original provenience is uncertain, although the Pythion remains the most likely candidate.

12.

Guarducci dated the Pythion texts as a group to the period ca. 650-500 BC. Jeffery (1990) 311313, whose discussion of the dating of these inscriptions has not been superceded, saw no reason to date any of them as early as the seventh century BC. The date of the temple of Apollo Pythios could be lowered in consequence of Jeffery’s down-dating of the earliest of the Pythion texts. See supra

13.

n.

10.

I do

not attempt

to refine

the

dating

of the

Pythion

texts or to suggest

their

chronology relative to one another. | intend to return to the problem of their chronology, both absolute and relative, in a subsequent study. For the present (Parts I and II of this essay) I consider them as a dossier of sixth century inscriptions. Four additional inscriptions of the first half of the fifth century may have been inscribed on the Pythion (/.Crer. TV 68, 69, 89 and 105). For their provenience, see the discussion in J. Cres. IV.

14.

Latosion was probably a neighborhood or suburb of the podis-town of Gortyn. See Perlman (1996) 254. The precise nature of the group in question is uncertain. Guarducci (/, Cres. IV 78) suggested that che residents of Latosion were frecdmen (τοὶ ἀπελεύθεροι). Van Effenterre proposed instead that they were repatriated Gertymoi (τοὶ dneAcu[odpevor)) (van Effenterre & van Effenterre [1985] 187-188; Nomima 1.16). In any event, reference to the xemios kosmos (1. 4: [αἱ xatadoApico, τὸν κσένιον κόσμον μὲ λαγαῖεν, “if enslaved, the xentios kosmos may not release”) indicates that the

individuals in question were not citizens of Gortyn. See “Gortyn. The First Seven Hundred Years (Part II)” (forthcoming in CPC Papers). 15.

À small fragment of a second block which preserves three Archaic letters (/.Cret. IV 39) was also

found on Hagios Ioannis. 16.

Nortima 11.12. Guarducci (/.Crer. TV 28) thought that the text continued on blocks above, to the left and to the right of the surviving block. Van Effenterre & Ruzé believe that the text is complete.

17.

Guarducci’s

date

of ca. 480-460

BC

has

been

generally

accepted

(Guarducci

[1950]

149),

although it must be noted that Lucy Shoe Meritt (Shoe [1936] 18) dated the curved structure to the second half of the fifth century BC on the basis of the profile of the anta’s moulding. Cf. Jeffery (1990) 313, who seemed to recommend the later date, and Kirsten (1942) 37-48, who preferred the end of the fifth century. 18.

Guarducci (1950) 87-90. The most thorough account of the history of the architectural context of the Great and Second Codes is that of Gorlin (1991) 7-30.

19.

Meinel (1980) 597.

20. 21.

Pernier (1929) 14-15. l am indebted to Brice Erickson (per ep.) for this information. Erickson notes that “material from the first half of the fifth century remains elusive.” The material from the late sixth century BC included “two Attic imports, one fragmentary cup, and approximately 14 cup bases.” The second half of the fifth and the early fourth century BC yielded “two fragmentary cups, 14 cup bases, two lamps, two fragmentary red-figure pieces, two nozzles of lekythoi, and a Gortynian copy of an Antic skyphos.” Erickson’s study of the historical Greek pottery from Di Vita’s recent excavations in the vicinity of the Odeion will appear in ASAtene for 1999-2000.

22.

Halbherr (1887) 572ff. suggested that both sets of inscribed blocks originally came from buildings

located near the Odeion, one circular and one rectangular. Di Vita reports that a re-examination in 1996 of the area of Halbherr’s tum-of-the-century excavation has brought to light evidence that “the earlier (sc. Hellenistic) rectangular building contained the great inscription (sc. Great Code) in a semi-circular exedra, which was at the rear of an open space exactly to the W (sc. west of the rectangular building)” (Blackman [1997] 104). 23.

Halbherr (1897) 170-219; Sanders (1982) 109, 158-159.

_

84 24.

25.

26. 21. 28. 20,

30.

PAULA PERLMAN

A fifth inscription of the same date from the building (/.Crer. TV 104) is too fragmentary to determine its content. 1 νει. IV 160, a law of the late fourth or early third century BC from this building, may also concern the pledging of property as security. The law compels an individual or individuals to submit the dispute to trial (προφερόντων ἐπὶ τὸνς ölbpavc), render a verdict (κρινόντων), determine the ownership of the disputed property (κἠπιδιχαδόντων), exact the penalty (npedévtwv), and register the fines together with the collectors (συναπογραφόντων ἐπὶ τὸνς ἐσπράττανς). Nothing in this law argues against the suggestion that it concerns property pledged ag security. Perhaps e.g. the ἐσπράτται “collectors of fines”. Osborne (1997) 79-80 observes that “Classical Athenian law organized itself according to the magistrate responsible”. Two of the inscriptions which mention the ἐσπράτται (J. Cret. IV 91 and 160) were inscribed on the walls of this building (the other references to the ἐσπράτται are in /.Cret. IV 75D and 87). The term is associated with the verb πράζω, “to pay” (Bile [1988] 327; Nomima I, p. 348} and occurs only in the plural. These officials seem to have been responsible primarily for the collection of fines assessed in judicial proceedings. A special μνάμον τὸν ἐσπραττᾶν was attached to the office (I. Crer. IV 87). Perhaps the repository of the records referred to in /.Crer. TV 160? For the connection on Crete between Apollo and the inscribing of laws, see infra pp. 73-74. For a brief reference to the sanctuary, see Di Vita (1984) 71; for its location, see the plan facing p. 71, no. 7 “santuario de Demetra e Kore”. Strabo’s claims that Gortyn remained unfortified during the Archaic and Classical periods and that it was provided with a defense wall by Ptolemy IV are supported archaeologically (Strabo 10.4.11; Allegro & Ricciardi [1988]). Guarducci (1950) 32, 55. Koerner (1993) no. 119 locates trials for cases of homicide in the agreion. See also BCH 70 (1946) 590-597, no. 2, a law from Dreros which mentions a magistrate

called the agretas (ἀγρέτας). Van Effenterre (1946) 595 identified the agretas as a herald who summons the Drerians to assemble; cf. Nomima I1.78, “l'assembleur”, a political or military official. For the agora of Gortyn, see infra pp. 72-73. 31.

La Torre (1993) 290.

32.

La Torre

(1993)

290-298.

The

settlement

scatter at Charkia

Pervoli covers

an

area of ap-

proximately 7,000m? and so is roughly the same size as the western quarter of Karphi (6,000m’), the LM IIIC refuge settlement in the Lasithi plain. Nowicki (1987) identified the remains of 2530 houses in the western quarter of Karphi and estimated a population of 150-240 on the basis of six to eight persons per residential unit. Using the same figures as Nowicki, we might imagine for the purposes of a very rough comparison that the population at Charkia Pervoli was slightly larger (ca. 170-270 inhabitants) than the western quarter of Karphi which represents about one-

fifth of the latter’s entire population. Shaw (1989) 165. Rizza & Scrinari (1991) 346 et passim. For the chronology of the surface remains and the identification of the temple, see Simpson er al. (1995) 370-372. Godart (1986), Allegro (1991) 329. So far as I can determine, the material culture of the settlement on Profitis [lias does not suggest the arrival of newcomers.

Pi. Leg. 708A; Bürchner (1912) 1667. Paus. 8.53.4-5. Another Gortys, the son of Stymphalos, founded the Arkadian pois of Gortys (Paus. 8.4.8). The struggle berween king Nabis of Sparta and the Achaian League during the final decade of the third century BC when both Nabis and Philopoimen were active on Crete would have provided a likely occasion. For this period, see Cartledge & Spawforth (1989) 59-79. This is a particularly attractive suggestion in light of the contesting tradition that Sparta colonized Gortyn. See infra pp. 67-71.

43. 44.

Paus. 8.4.2-3. Pausanias, our only source for the bastard son of Arkas, does not record the name of his mother. Paus. 8.25.11.

GORTYN. THE FIRST SEVEN HUNDRED

45,

YEARS (PART ἢ

85

The sanctuary of Thelpousa is attested in /.Crer. I.v.20A.3; for the sanctuary of Asklepios, see L.Cres. 1.v.20B, £.Cret. 1.v.52.43, L Crez. 1.v.53.34, I. Crez. IIL.ii.5.6-7 (οἱ κατοικόντες ᾿Ιϊεραπύτνιοι

[παρ΄ ᾿Αρκάσιν) ἐν τῶι ἱερῶι τῶ ᾿Ασκλαπιῶ), and CrerChron. 10 (1956) chr. 420; for the festival, see /.Cret. TI. iii.1B.9. For the location of Arkades, see Viviers (1994) 233-234. The asty of the polis has been identified

with the ancient sertlement at Aphrati, but both of the inscriptions from the region which refer to Arkades by name (1 Cret. I.v.19A; 20A) come from the village of Ini.

The term πυλά occurs in two fragmentary inscriptions (J. Cret. IV 19; 104) and in a section of the Great Code concerning the marriage of heiresses (/.Crez. ΓΝ 72vii40-viii36).

48. 49.

LCret, IV 165; 182; 197. Maiuri (1911) 666-668. Ainaones: I.Cret. IV 196; Aithaleis: 1. Cret. IV 72v6; 142; 167; 184 + SEG 23 589; /.Crer. TV 232 + Inv. GO 352 (Magnelli [1998]); Z Crer. IV 259. The remaining four phylai are: ‘Axi. nal — ] (ZCret. IV 236); ᾿Αρχήια (1 νει. IV 233; LCret. IV 1868. + 187); AbtoAnran (1. Crer. IV 261); and Aex{ — | (Z.Crer. IV 171). The tribal name ᾿Αρχήιϊα is probably theophoric. It occurs as well at Knossos (/. Cret. I.viii.10; SEG 33 729) where the hero Archos is

attested (/.Crer. I viii.4B.7, 15). See Vollgraff (1948) 75-79. 50.

Jones (1987) 219-222. There is one exception to this general observation. The tribal names attested for the west Cretan pods of Axos seem τὸ reflect a territorial organization and so tell us nothing about the ethnic composition of the community. Jones (1987) 223.

51.

For the distribution of the Cretan phylai, see Jones (1987) Table updated as follows. Chersonasos

(Δίφυλοι, SEG

1, p. 221, which should be

41 770) should be added to the catalogue of

poleis and Oleros should be removed. The tribal name Πάμφυλοι occurs in an inscription which although found in the vicinity of ancient Oleros (J.Cret. 1Π.ν.1}) has been identified as Hierapytnian on prosopographic grounds (Guarducci [1942] 133). Hierapytna, then, should be added

to the list of poleis where the phyle Πάμφυλοι is attested. Dreros should be added to the polets where the phyle Δυμᾶνες is attested (BCH 60 [1936] 280-285). ᾿Ὑλλεῖς is attested at Knossos (SEG 33 728) and two phylar, ΠΙάμφυλοι (1. Cret. 1.xxii.8) and | — pov (1. Cret. I xviii.9 + SEG 33 134) are attested at Olous.

52.

The absence of this pattern among the western poleis of Crete is probably to be attributed to the distribution of our evidence which is far greater for the poles of central and east Crete. Indeed,

53.

54.

55. 56.

57. 58.

apart from Axos (see supra n. 49) tribal names are not attested for any of the principal polers of west Crete (Aptara, Eleutherna, Elyros, Hyrtakina, Kydonia, Lisos, Phalasama, Polyrhen, Rhithymnos, Sybrita, Tarrha). See e.g. Willetts (1955) passim. The presence of a mixed ruling class may be detected as well in the Cretan dialect (or dialects?). Brixhe (1991b) contends that the precise nature of the Achaian elements which survived in Cretan, defined by Brixhe as primarily grammatical rather than lexical, is best understood to reflect an carly accommodation between the pre-Doric Greek elite and certain of the Doric-speaking immigrants. As Brixhe puts it, what survives of the Achaian dialect is not the vocabulary of slaves but the grammar of the elite. Linguistic evidence suggests that the non-Greek population experienced a different fate. The relative absence of pre-Greek elements in Cretan is indicative of a subjugated population save in the east where Eteocretan was used in public documents at Praisos and perhaps elsewhere until the third century BC. This suggests that the Praisian population was partly of Minoan descent. See Brixhe (1991b); Duhoux (1982). For the unity of the Cretan dialect, see Bile (1988) passion; Bile & Brixhe (1991); cf. van Effenterre (1991). Jones (1987) 220 formulates the historical process in terms of “substantial numbers of pre- or non-Doric Greeks dispersing over the island, eventually achieving an accommodation with the Dorians”. Aithaleis (J. Crer. IV 72v5). As demonstrated in “Gortyn. The First Seven Hundred Years (Part IT)” (forthcoming in CFCPapers), the evidence which may be understood to reflect the creation of new tribes at Gortyn is better explained in terms of changes in the rules concerning office-holding. For Dymanes, Aithaleis, Airızones, and Archeia, see supra pp. 64-65 and n. 49. The cribal name could be a masculine a-stem -ta:s suffixation of something like Autola:wos > Autolsos. The personal name Λεώτης, attested on Naxos (fvO 294.2}, provides a good parallel

PAULA PERLMAN

86

for Auto-la:wota:s > Auto-la:ota:s > Autola:ta:s, or in koine, Αὐτολήτης. I am indebted to my colleague, Thomas Palaima, for showing me how the derivation could work.

59.

Malkin (1994) 139-142.

60.

Jost (1985) 495-499.

61. 62.

Hymn. Hom. Ap. 207-210. The question of ita date is complicated by the majority view that the Hymn as we now have it is a composite of two separate hymns, a Delian (to v. 178) and a Pythian hymn (vv. 179-546). See e.g. Miller (1986), who argues for the unitary view and Janko (1982) 99-132, who adduces linguistic arguments in favor of the analysts’ position. The reference in vv. 270-271 to a sanctuary unbothered by the noise of chariots suggests that the Pythian portion predates the introduction of the chariot race to the Pythian Games

63,

in 586 BC.

Pind. Pyth. 3.25-26. Azan was not only the son of Arkas and half-brother of Autolaos, but also the eponym of Azania, a region in northern Arkadia associated with the Arkadian Azanes. For a discussion of the Azanes,

see Nielsen & Roy (1998). Thelpousa may have been located in the region of Azania, although no ancient text locates it there. See Jost (1985) 25-27; Nielsen & Roy (1998) 33-36. 65.

66.

Jost (1985) 495 argues against the view that the story of the hero’s exposure, discovery and rescue postdates ca. 300 BC, the date of the hymn of Isyllos (10 TV?.1 128) which does not include this episode in its version of the myth of Asklepios. For the Tegean month name Leschanasios and the Gortynian month Leschanonos, see infra pp. 75-76.

67.

Paus. 8.38.2. For the location of Kretea, see Jost (1985)

68. 69.

Etym. Magn.

70.

Etym. Magn. s.v. νύμφαι γεραιστιάδες.

71. 72.

Jost (1985) 248-249. Snodgrass (1974). For the worship of an armed goddess at the sanctuary on Hagios Ioannis, see supra p. 60 and n. 8. Paus. 4.19.4; 20.8. Pausanias identified the Cretan mercenaries as archers from Lyktos (4.19.4), Aptara (4.20.8) and elsewhere on Crete (4.19.4).

73. 74.

185-187.

Hes. Theog. 477-484. For the Cretan origins of the myth, see ¢.g. Verbruggen (1981) 27-39. s.v. Tepatatiov.

Snodgrass (1974) 198-199 suggested that the miniature votives were dedicated in lieu of the real thing

by

victorious

soldiers.

While

their

connection

with

warfare

is obvious,

the

precise

circumstances of their dedication is less certain. It seems equally likely that such votives would have been given prospectively as post eventum. It should be noted that according to Paus. 4.11.1 the Arkadians supported the Messenians πανστρατιᾷ during the Second Messenian War. Perhaps Cretans fought on both sides of the conflict, those of Arkadian descent joining the cause of the Messenians and offering their prayers and votives in advance of the final decision. 75.

Konon (FGrHist 26) fr. 1 χχχνὶ; 1 -xtvii.

76. 77. 78.

Plut. Mor. 247; 296. Malkin (1994).

79.

Guarducci (1950) 173. For a discussion of the status of the community of the Anryklaioï, see Perlman (1996) 260-261.

81.

Guarducci (1950) 32; Willetts (1962) 260-261. For the month Amyklaios at Gortyn, see /.Cret. IV 182. Cucuzza (1997a) 66-69.

82.

Steph. Byz. 88.3: ἔστι καὶ πόλις ᾿Αμυκλαῖον ἐν Κρήτῃ καὶ ὄρμος.

83.

For the location of ancient Amyklaion at Kommos, see Shaw (1978) 152-154. The block bearing I.Cret. IV 172 was found nineteen kilometers east of Kommos in the modern village of Apesokani.

80.

Cucuzza (19973) 66 suggests that the block came from Gortyn and so provides no evidence for the location of the community of the Amyklasoi. 84.

Cucuzza (1997a) 64-71; (1997b) 13-14. For the remains, see supra p. 63 and ἢ. 35. Shaw (1978) 153-154 had already suggested that the territory of the Amyklaioi may have comprised the Kommos-Kalamaki

region.

GORTYN. THE FIRST SEVEN HUNDRED YEARS (PART D 85.

87

Cucuzza (1997a) 78-81 dates Gortynian expansion toward the west no earlier than the mid-fifth century BC. Malkin (1994) BO, who argues for the historicity of Sparta’s colonial role on Crete,

admits that the tradition could have been invented at a later period in an effort to engage Spartan military support.

86.

Shaw (1989)

87. BB.

Dietrich (1986)

89.

165, 182. 121-186, esp. 160-161.

Masson (1983) no. 220, first quarter of the fourth century BC? For the semitic god mkl, see Masson (1960) 137-139. Shaw (1989) 182-183 proposes for the three gods suggested by the three-pillared shrine either Baal, Ashera and Astarte or Tanit, Ashera and Astarte. Cf. Hoffman (1997) 172-176, who cautions that temple B at Kommos may reflect purely local Cretan cult.

Burkert (1975) 74. Cf. Lipinski (1987) 98-99 and Pettersson (1992) 97 n. 543 who suggest instead that the connection between Apollo and Resep Mikal was late and introduced into Cyprus from Crete. Evans (1964 repr.) 85-88. The Aico? πέτρη has been identified with Cape Lithinon to the south of Matala and with the cape to the south of Kornmos. See Cucuzza (1997) 74. Malkin (1994) 47.

For arguments in favor of the period mid-seventh to mid-smth century crystallization of the Odyssey, see ¢.g. Nagy (1992), Cook (1995) 163-170. Malkin (1994)

95,

BC

for the final

111-113.

The participation of Lemnians and Imbrians is probably not historical, but arose from the conflation of myths of Spartan colonization and Athenian myths which served to justify Athens’ treatment of Lemnos, Imbros and Skyros. See Malkin (1994) 77-78. The ephorste is known at the Spartan colonies of Taras and Thera and at their colonies Herakleia (colony of Taras), Kyrene (colony of Thera), and Euhesperides (colony of Kyrene). See Malkin (1994) 74.

96.

Malkin (1994) 74. To the best of my knowledge, Lakonian pottery was not found in the excavations at Profits Dias. See Allegro (1991) 329, who indicates that the material culture of the later settlement on Profitis Dias appears no different from that of the earlier settlement on Hagios Ioannis. Some

Lakonian ware of the fate seventh century BC

was found at Kommos,

but this

discovery is not particularly relevant to our question insofar as there was probably a trading station at Kommos at that time. See Johnston (1993) 351, 359-362. 97, 98.

Malkin (1994) 82-83. Raaflaub (1993) 46-59, esp. 51-53; Raaflaub (1997) esp. 49. Raaflaub (1993) 44 places both the

Thad and the Odyssey in the second half of the eighth century BC with the [had a generation or so earlier than the Odyssey. For our purposes Raaflaub's position on chronology is less significant than his views on epic society. 99.

Settlement κατὰ κώμας: Di Vita (1984) 70; synoikiam: Di Vita (1991) 318; La Torre (1993) 297298, 302. Allegro (1991) 329-330 attributes the abandonment of the settlement on Profits Dias

100.

to an earthquake. Levi (1961-62) 399ff. tentatively attributed the contemporary destruction on the west slope at Phaistos to an carthquake. For the absence of imported pottery from the sixth to the fourth century BC, see Scrinari (1968) 46. Mention has already been made of the inscribed block (/.Cret. IV 28) from Hagios Ioannis.

See supra p. 61. 101. 102. 103.

Di Vita (1991) 315 π. 9.

104.

Three Archaic laws of Crete are inscribed on free-standing monuments rather than walls: /.Crer.

The agora also functioned as a market, at least for slavea (J.Cret. FV 72viil1).

See supra p. 61 and σι. 21. The inscribing of laws on the walls of structures located in the agora should perhaps be associated with a similar spike towards the middle of the fifth century BC.

Lxxviii.7 (inscribed kyrbis from Prinias); SEG 23 565 (opisthographic stele from Axos); SEG 41 739 (opisthographic stele from Eleutherna).

105. Demargne & van Effenterre (1937). 106. A second Archaic temple (Temple IT) was located below and to the east of the akropolis. For both temples, see Levi (1930-31); Rizza (1967-68). Only one of the inscribed laws of Axos has been

associated with Temple II Jeffery [1949-50] 34-38). For the provenience of the inscriptions, see

PAULA PERLMAN

88

Guarducci (1939) 48; Jeffery (1949-50) 34-38. Jeffery (1990) 316 suggested that the Archaic inscriptions came from one of three “codes”: I. Gret. IL.v.12-14 (laws from a code of the early sixth century BC inscnbed on Temple ἢ; £.Crez. Π.ν.1-8, 11 (laws from ἃ code of ca. 525-500 BC inscribed on Temple ἢ; Jeffery (1949-50) 34-36 (law from a code of ca. 525-500 BC inscribed on Temple II). 107.

Xenion

(apud Steph. Byz. 482.10-11) provides the earliest reference to the eponymous Oaxos,

son of Apollo and Akakallis, daughter of Minos. See also Alex. Polyh. (FGrHisr 273) fr. 30; Verg. Ed. 1.65. The earliest coins of ca. 380/370-330 BC have the head of Apollo on the obverse and a tripod on the reverse. See Le Rider (1966) 197. The tripod indicates that the Apollo depicted on the coins of Axos was associated with Delphi. Rehm (Kawerau & Rehm [1914] 407) suggested that

108. 109.

this

Apollo

mentioned

110. Ε11.

112.

was

surnamed

Delphinios.

For

Apollo

Oaxios,

see

Hesych.

s.v.

Θόαξιος

(Schmidt). Temple II has been ascribed to Aphrodite on the basis of the votive figurine types from the temple refuse. Levi (1930-31) 50; Rizza (1967-68). The earliest reference to Apollo Pythios at Gortyn occurs in a provision of the agreement of Gortyn and Kaudos requiring that a tithe of the revenue from land and sea be paid to the god (I.Crer. IV 184 + SEG 23 589.18-19, late third or early second century BC). The Pythion is in an agreement

of Gortyn

and Knossos

(/.Cret. IV

182.19).

Other references to

Apollo Pythios (/.Crer. IV 171.14; 174.59, 74; 183.20) and to the festival Pythia (Z Crer. IV 174.39) are either restored or occur in contexts where it cannot be determined if the reference is to Gortyn. For Apollo Delphinios at Dreros, see /.Crer. Lix.1.A21, C117 (third-second century BC); BCH 61 (1937) 29-32. Hymn. Hom. Ap. 388-396. For the date of the Hymn, see supra Ὁ. 66 and n. 62. It should be noted that the date of the Hymn’s composition is close in time to the earliest of the Pythion laws. For further discussion of the apparent connection between written law on Crete, particularly Gortyn, and Delphic Apollo, see “Gortyn. The First Seven Hundred Years (Part II)” (forthcoming in CPC Papers). See supra p. 72.

113.

Demargne & van Effenterre (1937) indicate that the agora and the temple of Apollo Delphinios were planned as part of a single eighth century BC building program; cf. van Effenterre (1992) — the agora was laid out in the sixth century BC.

114.

Alternatively, it might be suggested that as was possibly the case at Dreros (see preceding note)

the civic center of Gortyn was not laid out until sometime after the construction of the Pythion, perhaps as late as the final quarter of the sixth century to judge from the spike in the ceramic evidence. Why the civic center was laid out where it was rather than as at Dreros in closer proximity to the Pythion would then require an explanation. 115.

According to Steph. Byz. 538.19-21 the neighborhood in which the temple of Apollo was located was in the very center of Gortyn (τὸ πάλαι μεσαίτατον τῆς ἐν Κρήτῃ Γόρτυνος) and was in former times called Pythion. The reference must be to the Hellenistic or Roman city.

116.

The three inscriptions which do not name Apollo are /.Crer. IV 65 (sacrificial law with Zeus and

117.

century BC); 72iii7-9 (Great Code with [Artemis] Toxitis, ca. 450 BC). 1 νει. IV 3 (sacrificial calendar (?] with Apollo, Demeter, and Hera, late seventh or early sixth century BC). The name of the god is mostly restored, 11 ᾿Απίέλλονι] (1 Crer. TV 3.2).

Helios, first half of the fifth century BC); 66 (fragment with Poseidon

7), first half of the fifth

118.

Δ ρει. TV 51 (evidentiary oath with Zeus [?], Apollo, Athene and Hermes, first half of the fifth century BC). For the view that the law concerns inheritance, see Nomima 1.64.

119.

Amyklaios: { Crer. ΓΝ 182.23; Kanneios: f.Cret. IV 197.8; 235.7; Leschanorios: Z Crer. TV 181.17, 26. The remaining three month names are Welchanios (/.Crer. IV 3.1; 184.3), Eleusinios (I. Cret.

IV 232 + Inv. GO 352; Magnelli [1998]), and Ionios (J.Crer. TV 181.3). Welchanos appears to have been

(Hesych. Gortyn, Demeter 500 BC Demeter suggests

an indigenous

Cretan

(perhaps

Minoan?)

god who

was later identified

with Zeus

s.v. Γέλχανος; Willetts [1962] 250-251; Capdeville [1995] 155-288). For Eleusinios at see Magnelli (1998) 98-100. The month name is likely to be connected with a cult of and Kore. For the worship of Demeter and Kore at Gortyn, cf. Z.Crer. IV 3 and the ca. sanctuary to the northeast of the Pythion identified by its excavators as a sanctuary of and Kore (supra p. 62). The cultic significance of Ionios is not known, although it clearly an Ionian ethnic influence.

GORTYN. THE FIRST SEVEN HUNDRED YEARS (PART D

39

120.

For Knossos, see I. Crer. IV 181.45.

121.

For Apollo Karneios and the Karneia, see Burkert (1985) 234-236; Petterason (1992) 57-72 and

passim; Malkin (1994) 143-158. Pettersson (1992) 106-109 rejects the model of transmission via Doric migrations in favor of “the emergence of a Dorian identity ... as part of ... peer polity interaction” (p. 108}. 122. Malkin (1994) 157-158. 123.

It is worth noting that in explanation of the name Karneios, the scholia of Theokritos 5.82-83 adduce a reference by the Sikyonian poetess Praxilla (fonar ca. 450 BC?) to Karnos, a son of Zeus and Europa (Page PMG

753). The earliest coins of Gortyn

(from ca. 470 BC) depict on

their obverse Europa seated upon the bull, For the chronology of Gortyn’s mint, see Le Rider (1966) 158-172. 124.

SEG 25 1071, 264 BC.

125. 126.

Supra Ὁ. 69 and n. 88. Supra pp. 67-71.

121.

Pettersson (1992) 9-41 (with earlier bibliography) and passim.

128.

].Crer. 1.viii.4.17.

129.

Lato:

130.

258, Malkin (1994) 112.

131.

δ νει. 1.xvi.3.3; Malla: /.Crer. 1.xix.3A.40; Gortyn:

/.Crei. TV 181.13-14, with comm.

Ὁ.

This goes without saying if the source was semitic. Even if the Spartan colonial expedition introduced the derivative forms of Amyklai to the Mesara, the message of Amyklaios was still undoubtedly non-Doric. See Pettersson (1992}

106-109.

132.

Kleanthes SVF 1.543; Ammonius apud Plut. Mor. 385C; Comutus, De natura deorum 32.

133.

Willetts (1962) 266-267, Chantraine (1974) 17.632. Chantraine suggests that the epithet and month name are derived from the unattested personal name *Araxrrivup.

134,

1 νει. T.xxx.1, late fourth or early third century BC. For the identification of the remains as those of ancient Bionnos, see Guarducci (1939) 310; Hood & Warren (1966) 173-174 no. 8. Meliteia: /G LX.2 207; Skotoussa: IG IX.2 370; “Thesaalian”: 7G IX.2 546. For the “Thessalian” calendar, see Samuel (1972) 83-84. iG V.2 3. Chantraine (1974) IIL.632 offers only the comment “plus obscur” in reference to

135. 136.

Λεσχανάσιος.

137.

It should be recalled that it was the Tegeans who preserved eponymous ancestor of Gortyn as the son of Tegeates.

the tradition identifying the

138.

Tt must be admitted that there is almost no material evidence for class differentiation at Gortyn during the Archaic and Classical periods. With the notable exception of a dinos attributed to Sophilos (first half of the sixth century BC) which was found in the sanctuary on Hagios Ioannis Johannowsky [1955-56]), votive evidence does not suggest the presence of an elite, and Archaic tombs have not been identified.

139. 140.

Cucuzza (19978) 76-77 suggests that Gortyn was preoccupied with defending her territory against Lyktos during the seventh century BC. Van Effenterre (1991b) identifies an island-wide pattern of territorial consolidation by the larger

poleis at the expense of the smaller communities during the late seventh and early sixth centuries. 141. Johnston (1993) 375-377. 142.

For Prinias, see supra Ὁ. 63 and n. 34. At Knossos there is a gap in the material of the sixth century BC suggestive of a decline in the life of the pots. This attributed to various factors including a military explanation. Lyktos has been aggressor, but one wonders if the abandonment of Prinias by the middle of the

record for much decline has been identified as the sixth century BC

might not suggest instead that the culprit was Gortyn. For the sixth-century BC gap at Knossos

and its explanation, see Coldstream & Huxley (1999). 143.

The questions when during the period LM

II-LM DIB mainlanders came to Crete, in what

capacities and from what parts of the mainland are all controversial. For an introduction to the

range of responses to these questions, see the articles in Driessen & Farnoux (1997).

Ergasteria in the Western Greek World TOBIAS FISCHER-HANSEN

For Mogens, πολλῶν δ᾽ ἀνθρώπων ἴδεν ἄστεα καὶ νόον ἔγνω

Introduction

Urban studies do not play a central role in the research of the Copenhagen Polis Centre whose focus is primarily upon the political and legal aspects of the Greek polis. Although archaeological data are investigated with reference to entries in the Database Layout set up by the Centre,' some types of data not directly relevant have been left out, and these include craft production and

specialisation. It may therefore be useful to investigate the nature and extent of this type of evidence, and to see whether such an investigation can contribute to the clarification of the polis as an economic/urban entity. The study undertaken here is confined to Sicily and Magna Graecia and the colonial status of the sites therefore endows the study with one-sidedness, which hopefully is balanced by the importance of the evidence not previously

treated under one heading.” That workshops were normally part of habitation emerges from the Classical sources,

as revealed

above

all by the use

of the term

ergasterion.

Though

relevant mainly for Athens, a short reminder may be useful. The contexts of the term ergasterion offer no descriptions in a physical sense, and the term is often

used

simply

of a habitation

practised, or even of just a group

where

work

of workmen.’

of different categories Moses

was

Finley asked what

characteristics, in a property sense, a workshop had that set it apart from any other building,* and we can ask a similar question, what characteristics the workshops had in a structural sense and within the scheme of urban planning,

and what role they played in early colonial trade and economy. According to Finley the ergasteria discussed in connection with the horoï inscriptions do not seem to signify wealth. However, as documented below, artisans’ quarters, large and small, are widely attested in the Greek West, a basis of wealth and trade not confined to the trading colonies but integral to all of the Greek

92

TOBIAS FISCHER-HANSEN

colonies. The colonial workshops also exerted considerable influence on the development of workshops in the indigenous, non-Greek centres. Workshops, or ergasteria to use the Greek term, were mostly incorporated as part of single dwellings, with no apparent plan behind choice of location in the overall urban scheme. The evidence is often sporadic and fortuitous. At times habitation and workshops were located in areas which seem to have served primarily for production, but industrial quarters as such are rare, and even in several of the best investigated sites, for instance Poseidonia, there is

no evidence for the location of single workshops, let alone workshop quarters. The uncertainty of the origins of single classes of products, for instance the Vix crater, to take a well known case, is so universal because we often do not have the workshop

evidence.

There

are, however,

some

sites where

workshop

quarters are known as far back as the Archaic period, but quarters with an extension

that corresponds

to a noteworthy

part of the urban

area, as at

Lokroi, are not known before the Late Classical period.

Even in the Archaic period the picture of workshop areas does not seem very different from that drawn

from the evidence we have from the Iron Age —

single kilns or small workshop areas, which seem to point to a relatively modest production, and in only a few cases seem to indicate a larger export-oriented production. The production centre at Pithekoussai is unique, there is no comparable evidence from the early phases of other Western Greek colonial sites, reflecting the special status of Pithekoussai as a commercial centre and early metal-producing outpost. Although early kilns are not so far known at the site, ceramic production did take place with an export to Campania and Etruria, where also Euboian potters may have settled, some probably arriving there

by way

of Pithekoussai.>

The

close-knit

mixture

of habitation

and

workshops is known from Iron Age indigenous sites, for instance on the Motta plateau at Francavilla Marittima, but it is a phenomenon which characterises Greek cities too, as shown in numerous urban excavations and by epigraphic

and literary sources. In his seminal, and still valid, study of the development of craftmanship in the Greek West, Bruno D’ Agostino showed, with reference to Megara Hyblaia,

that the production of local pottery seems to develop with special intensity during the period immediately after the foundation of the colony,* an observation which is valid also for Syracuse, Leontinoi,’ Zankle, Gela, Kroton,

and probably other sites too. His assertion that crafts had for the early colonial city only the function of satisfying the local market, producing goods for use,

not goods for exchange," can now be modified. D’Agostino points to Rhegion as an exception to his rule, a city judged commercially ambitious and the production

centre of Chalkidian

Black-Figured

pottery,

and

of, more

un-

ERGASTERIA IN THE WESTERN GREEK WORLD

certainly, an important

class of bronze

vessels. Although

93

no testimony

of

Chalkidian sherds from a kiln or similar conclusive evidence has given the final proof, Rhegion is now recognised as the place of origin of this type of ware; the

city was a production and trading centre with trading routes linking the Straits, Southern Calabria, Etruria, above all Caere and Vulci, and the Western Mediterranean.” The role played by Rhegion as a production and trading centre in

the latter part of the sixth century was probably already established in the eighth and seventh centuries. Although there is little evidence from Rhegion itself from

this period,

Zankle,

another

site in the the

Straits,

has. given

abundant evidence of an eclectically-inspired late eighth/seventh-century local

production, inspired by Euboian and Korinthian imports, with numerous examples of imitiation wares finding a market in the Zanklean sub-colony of Mylai and the Rhegian sub-colony of Metauros. The picture offered nearly 30 years ago by D’ Agostino of a production only for local markets and for private,

internal consumption only, can now be modified. The concept of the polis as a consumer city where trade and production was of little importance, launched by Moses Finley,'° has been challenged in recent years by more scholars.!! The considerable evidence of workshops, as outlined

below,

seems

to invalidate this concept yet again. Also the concept that

subsistence economy was of basic importance and market economy of lesser importance for the economy of the ancient city’? is difficult to sustain in the

view of the importance of artisans’ activities documented for instance in Metapontion, often considered primarily an agrarian colony. However, recent investigations

also point to Classical

agriculture

as oriented

more

towards

production than toward peasant subsistence.”

When the Greek colonists arrived in Sicily and Western Greece they found there already a rich tradition of local workshops. Permanent workshops are known from Late Bronze Age indigenous sites, exemplified by the monumental building, the so-called anaktoron, in Pantalica in south-eastern Sicily. Recent

investigations seem to confirm the 12th century Late Bronze Age date of the large palace-like structure on the Pantalica plateau. The function of the building

is not wholly

clarified although

Bernabo

Brea’s

use of the term

‘palazzo’ seems to find some confirmation in the residential use of the building. In the large room ‘A’ Paolo Orsi found evidence of bronze-processing, a useful testimony of habitation including a workshop area. The complex should probably be interpreted as the habitation of a central authority housing also a workshop, thereby exercising control over metal production, a major economic

factor in the period.'* At the Daunian city at Salapia in Southern Italy there is evidence of potters’ activities from the tenth century. A heap of clay, found with potters’ installations, was so large that its use for a purely local production

94

TOBIAS FISCHER-HANSEN

is excluded by the excavators. That the workshop continued in use until the fourth century is striking evidence of the continuity of an artisans’ activity over a long chronological span with its very different cultural backgrounds.” The following survey of the archaeological evidence offered by some selected sites shows that workshops played an important role in the production and economy of many of the Western Greek cities.

A number of indigenous and

Hellenised indigenous sites have been included as they offer points of comparison and testimonies of contacts at artisan level.

Catalogue Akragas A rich harvest of bronze debris found just outside a terrace wall on the east slope of the Rupe Atenea, interpreted by the excavator as part of a sanctuary,

is taken as evidence of a fifth-century bronze smithy (de Waele [1980] 443), an example of a foundry built in the vicinity of a sanctuary. A coroplast workshop identified by sixth/fifth-century kilns located on the rocky spur near the circuit wall and gate 5, near the so-called sanctuary of the Chthonian Divinities, furnishes clear testimony of the production of votives near sanctuaries (Griffo

[1955]).

Apart

from

the evidence

of kilns or workshops

the local

coroplast production emerges from the enormous and varied output of votives of Akragantine type and from moulds used in the production found in large numbers in the city and in adjacent sites (Marconi Bovio [1930] 73-76, 101-

102; Marconi [1931] passim; Griffo [1987] passim). An export of coroplastic products to the various smaller settlements in the hinterland of Akragas as far as Himera is well documented from the early history of city, and is evidence not only of the expansion of Akragantine influence but also of the importance of trade contacts with the indigenous sites (Griffo

[1958]

is still valid as a

survey of Geloan and Akragantine terracottas). Amendolara

The Archaic settlement at Amendolara near Sybaris — it is stil] unclear whether this is a Greek foundation or a Hellenised site -- had an urban phase going back to the seventh

century with structural

elements

in the habitation

remains

pointing to contacts with Sybarıs, supporting the idea that the site is ancient Lagaria founded by Sybaris. The kilns found on the site belong to the early

seventh-century phase of the Greek settlement, revealing that a production had already been established in the first, rather restricted period before the developed and fully urbanised sixth century. Further industrial activity, such

ERGASTERIA IN THE WESTERN GREEK WORLD

as a cloth industry,

can be inferred from

a large number

95

of loomweights

carrying Greek (Achaian) graffiti (de La Genière & Nickels [1975] 492; de La

Genière [1978]; [1991]). Francavilla Marittima

A workshop area within the late eighth-century Iron Age settlement on the plateau of Timpone della Motta at Francavilla Marittima near Sybaris had a

noteworthy local ceramic production from which single vases are known from as far away as Pithekoussai. Apparently this indigenous centre acted as an intermediary between the Eastern Mediterranean, the indigenous centres of

Southern Italy and the Greek settlement at Pithekoussai (Ridgway [1992] 66), with a local production also of bronzes, e.g. bowls of Phoenician type (de La

Geniere

[1989]

493). After the foundation of Sybaris the activities of the

workshops, and of the settlement as such, seem to have terminated and the plateau is laid out as an Athena

sanctuary.

The

level of production of the

sanctuary, in the light of earlier activities, would be worth investigating — to cast light on the probable, though still unproven, continuity of artisan activities (de La Genière [1989] 495). The importance of the sanctuary with the remains of some of the earliest temple structures in Western Greece may also suggest that the architectural terracottas were made on the site (Mertens & Schlager

[1980-82]). Gela

A small industrial quarter, if not just a single workshop, has been laid bare just outside the western part of the Archaic city, bordering upon the Archaic cemetery. The evidence is potters’ kilns with sherds from a local pottery production going back to shortly after the mid-seventh

century. The

kilns

produced wares reminiscent of Rhodian prototypes, but also pottery inspired by local indigenous wares (Adamesteanu [1956a]; Fiorentini [1983] 71-73; [1992] 126-127). This latter production was most likely meant for export to the inland Sikulan sites, e.g. Butera from where similar types of ceramics are known

(Adamesteanu

[1957a]

173).

Finds

from

Butera

may

reveal

the

importation also of Geloan bronzes, although Adamesteanu is inclined to see

Gela rather in the role of ‘disseminator’ of bronzes from the Greek mainland than as a producer of bronzes (Adamesteanu [1956b] 6). The location of a small kerameikos outside the habitation area and near the cemeteries and the sea is very similar to that known from the site of Kamarina. Recent investigations have shown that the city of Gela extended down the north slope of the plateau into the plain below, and that this area was also part of the sixth-century

orthogonally planned

city, although

mainly dwellings,

96

TOBIAS FISCHER-HANSEN

workshops and sanctuaries were also located here (Spagnolo [1991] passim). In the Classical phase there is clear evidence of workshops located within large residential buildings. There are remains of rooms furnished for clay production (channels

and

basins

and

kilns), with evidence

primarily

of a coroplastic

production of not only votive but also architectural terracottas. The quarter has given strong indications of workshop activities, and the location of these on the outskirts of the city is reminiscent of similar artisans’ quarters at Lokroi and

Metapontion. The Timolean re-foundation led to the resumption of the pottery industry which had been set back by the Carthaginian destruction of Gela in 405. Trendall has attributed a Red-Figure production to Gela based mainly upon the evidence of find places, but there is workshop evidence from this period

from a farm complex located outside Gela at Manfria where kilns with homogenous Red-Figured material testify to a production supplementing the traditional

farm

economy.

Adamesteanu

does

not,

however,

exclude

the

possibility that part of the production is from Gela itself (Adamesteanu [1954]; [1958] 311-316). Gnathia Kilns sited between the sea and the habitation area indicate two separate artisan quarters -- mainly fourth-century but with evidence of a sixth-century origin (Cocchiaro [1983]). Herakleia Loukania

The fifth-century re-foundation on the Policoro plateau had an area which seems to have been specifically directed towards production, often interpreted as a proper kerameikos, but with evidence also of a coroplast and metal production.

(Adamesteanu

[1985];

Cuomo

di

Caprio

[1992b]

78-81).

The

workshops and kilns were located inside the individual houses on the central part of the plateau, therefore with no attempt at a marginal location, and it is hardly correct to use the term industrial quarter, but perhaps rather an artisan

and residential quarter, where the artisan activities were incorporated into the dwellings. Production has been shown to commence

in the late fifth century and to

continue to the end of the third century, presenting a picture of continued

production through the changing political status of the settlement, a picture that has emerged from several other sites. The production of important ProtoLoukanian Red-Figured vases such as the vases of the the Creusa Painter, a

pupil of the Metapontine Pisticci Painter, reveals the strength of the Herakleian potters’ traditions (Degrassi [1967]; Trendall [1983] 3-4).

ERGASTERIA IN THE WESTERN GREEK WORLD

97

Himera

A large number of iron slags and bloom from an area south of Temple ‘D’, in the border area of the major temenos and the habitation zone on the upper city, is Clear evidence of metal processing activities during the early history of the

colony (Allegro [1988-89] 652; Allegro [1991] 66). Pottery production on the upper plateau has been revealed by a kiln in insula III, near the outer edge of the habitation area, within a complex of more rooms and a yard, apparently in use from the fifth century (Belvedere & Epifanio [1976] 251-252). Himera has

given us evidence of another area with potters’ activity, in the lower city, where a kiln and various finds point to a small potters’ quarter, here apparently installed in a private house of late fifth-century date in a residential area, north of the so-called Temple of Victoria (Bonacasa [1976] 632-635). Remains of yet another potters’ workshop in the lower city are mentioned, but with no chronology offered (Bonacasa [1972-73] 222). During the period ofthe Carthaginian threat, and during the period after the destruction of 405, Himera may have produced Red-Figured vases, perhaps becoming one of the main production centres of Sicily in this period. Such a production is not supported by the evidence of workshops, but by the circumstantial evidence of a homogeneous group of Red-Figure from the site. It has been suggested that this production later moved

to Lokroi, however

without evidence to support such a hypothesis Joly [1972]).

Hyna (Ona) In the Japygian city of Hyria an artisans’ quarter with five kilns was located on

the outskirts of the ancient city. The initial production documented is that of Late Geometric Japygian ware from ca. 730, with production continuing through the middle of the sixth century. Remains of habitation have been found interspersed inside the production area (Andreassi [1994] 794-795). Incoronata

The seventh-century Greek site has provided very valuable evidence of a high quality local production in a small Greek commercial centre, securing the commercial interests of Siris, the city probably responsible for the founding of the settlement, if the settlement is not an autonomous and contemporary Greek foundation. No kiln has, so far, been excavated at the site. The rich and varied ceramic material may have originated in Siris, but a local production seems to be more likely (Various authors [1986]

esp. 34-36,

144-146). The

special type of louteria from the site, a vase type also prominent in the sanctuary of San Biagio near Metapontion, supports the idea of a production in the sanctuary.

98

TOBIAS FISCHER-HANSEN

Kamarina A potters’ and coroplasts’ quarter outside the north-east gate of the city, near

the Hypparis river, with kilns, moulds and ceramic waste, has revealed a high degree

of activity — mainly from

the second

half of the fifth century,

but

apparently also with activity in the period after the Carthaginian destruction

of 406 unti! the Timolean refoundation of the city. Votive figurines testify to the production

of common

Demeter types, but also of a rare rendering of

Athena Ergane, which apart from this location is known only from a coroplast’s workshop

at Scornavacche

in the hinterland

of Kamarina.

This

is strong

evidence of the connection between workshops in the city and the settlements of the chora (Pelagatti [1970] 14-16; Giudici [1979] 335 n. 252). Kanysion (Canosa) At Kanysion a potters’ quarter with several kilns was in use from the seventh century with a widely exported production of Daunian wares, continuously

through

the

city’s

strongly

Hellenised

fifth-century

phase,

plus

a rich

production of Canosan wares. Production of the local style “ceramica listata”

pottery continued until the end of the fourth century, following the Roman conquest of the city. Bronze helmets of the so-called Apulian-Korinthian type, primarily for use as tomb gifts or for parades, were probably produced at Kanysion, but there is no workshop evidence of this (Lo Porto [1975] 639641; [1977] 500). Kentoripa A potter’s workshop complex was laid out on terraces, with kilns located inside caves cut in the rock surface, on the margin of one of the cemeteries. This

sophisticated artisan quarter, with two more quite complex and extensive workshops, does reflect the outstanding artistic and industrial production of

the city in the Hellenistic period — above all serving the demand for tomb gifts (Rizza [1972-73] 371-372; Rizza (1976-77) 641-644). Kroton At Kroton there is evidence of more potters’ workshops with a history going back to the seventh century soon after the foundation. The evidence may point

to individual workshops — but the idea of a larger kerameikos located near the commercial and political centre of the city has been put forward. One should

also bear in mind that this artisans’ quarter was located where the roads of the city and the chora converge and where, so far, there is no evidence of habitation

(Spadea [1983] 130-132). A local, Late Geometric pottery production has been documented at Kroton (Sabbione [1982]).

ERGASTERIA IN THE WESTERN GREEK WORLD

99

Laos

The site of the original Sybarite colony is unknown, but the settlement of the Loukanian period has been well investigated. Kilns and other evidence of pottery production are known from inside a several-roomed structure on the

outskirts of the residential area. Remains of other kilns in the vicinity were probably also originally located inside buildings and therefore testify to a small industrial quarter on the margin of the habitation area. The excavators take

this as an example of a separately laid out industrial area, apart from the habitation area but part of the overall urban plan (Guzzo & Greco [1978] 444448; Greco, Luppino & Schnapp [1989] 45-46). As yet unstamped flans indicated the preparatory activities of a mint, apparently located near the agora (Cantilena [1989]). Although fourth century Laos was a Loukanian city it had an urban layout which is indistinguishable from a Greek city such as Metapon-

tion with workshops located on the the outskirts of the urban area. Leontinoi Leontinoi is a Chalkidian site with evidence of a local production of early colonial Proto-Korinthian and Euboian imitation wares. Orientalizing, figure-

decorated wares, related to the Orientalizing wares at Megara Hyblaia and Gela are also represented (Rizza [1957] 66-67; [1981] 314-316). However, no structural remains of artisans’ quarters have been identified. Trendall located

a Red-Figured production at Leontinoi, but the evidence is circumstantial (Trendall [1967] 577). Lokroi Epizephyrioi Lokroi was one of the centres in Magna Graecia for the production of metal work during the Archaic and Classical period, widely attested from tomb gifts

in the cemeteries of the city, and the city offers a rare epigraphic testimony of tile, pottery and metal workshops - the fourth century bronze tablets from the

sanctuary of Zeus (De Franciscis [1972] 123-124). The high level of artisans’ activities has been revealed by workshops

in

several parts of the city. In the the sixth century a large kiln was installed in the sanctuary of Aphrodite, the so-called Stoa ad U. The kiln was destroyed soon after when the sanctuary was enlarged and it may have been used in the production of architectural terraccottas and tiles for the enlarged structure and

then demolished when the work was completed. The kiln may therefore have served a specific production phase in the history of the sanctuary rather than the long term needs of the sanctuary (Costamagna & Sabbione

[1990] 215-

216). A kiln excavated just inside the circuit wall in the upper part of the city, Contrada Piani Caruso, must have served the neighbouring, fourth-century

100

TOBIAS FISCHER-HANSEN

habitation -- and not the sanctuary of the Grotta Caruso located outside the circuit wall (Arias [1947]). On the south western outskirts of Lokroi a number of habitation insudae, the so-called Centocamere

area, with the remains of 18 potters’ kilns, installed

inside single habitation units, indicate significant industrial activities (Barra

Bagnasco [1989a]; [1989b]). The workshop evidence is fourth-century and although habitation has been shown to go back to the sixth century there is no direct evidence of production apparatuses from that period. The different sizes of kilns show that the production comprised large-scale architectural terracottas and small-scale figurines, apart from common wares. So far there is no evidence of finer Red-Figured wares, known from Taras and

other sites, though a Lokrian production has been surmised on several occasions. Waste from foundries and fragments of bronze sculpture have also revealed a production of large bronze statuary in this artisans’ quarter. Barra Bagnasco has calculated the work force needed to work the 18 kilns at 140 working men. If these supported 300 people including women and children the

number of persons directly dependent on the workshops was about 400. Barra Bagnasco has also calculated the number

of inhabitants of Centocamere

at

3.500-4.000, so the work force would be about 10% of the population of this

quarter of the fourth-century city (Barra Bagnasco

[1989a]

37-42, 45-47;

[1989b] 26-34). This evidence concerns mainly the Hellenistic period, but the Archaic and

Classical production would have been no less significant con-

sidering the vast production of architectural terracottas necessary to supply the building programs of the Marasa and Marafioti sanctuaries. Medma A large area on the northern outskirts of the habitation plateau has yielded

testimony of fifth-century workshop activities, production of pottery, votive figurines, tiles together with some evidence of metal production. The production area seems to have been fenced off, or separated from the surrounding area, Southwards a large kiln testifies to yet another industrial area ‘Prop. Scarano’ (Sabbione [1981]; Paoletti [1981] 79 n. 14). During the fifth-fourth century yet another extensive zone on the border of the habitation area was

contemporaneously, and subsequently, occupied by workshops (‘Prop. Calderazzo’:

Paoletti

[1981]

80-83).

There

is some

evidence in both areas of

workshop activities being superseded by habitation, testimony of a change in

function. The large number of votive deposits of pottery and figurines has confirmed

the extent of production,

previously

known

from

the considerable

number of Medmean votive figurines found in Magna Graecian and Sicilian

sanctuaries (Miller [1983]).

ERGASTERIA IN THE WESTERN GREEK WORLD

101

Megara Hyblaia

From its early history Megara Hyblaia had a local vase production (Vallet & Villard [1964]). A single kiln inside what appears to be a private house and dated mid-seventh century is known from the south eastern outskirts of the Archaic city on the north plateau, in the vicinity of Temple ‘Sud-Est’ (Vallet et al. [1976] 153-154 ['64,3’), pl. 77.1-2). North-west of the agora, in a zone of the city which seems also primarily to have served habitation, a complex measuring 10 X 2.2m was laid out as a metal workshop with a foundry. The chronology spans the late eighth century, that is from a period shortly after the foundation, with activity continuing during the seventh century (Vallet er ai. [1976] 37-38 (‘14,3’], Pls. 5, 6.1; Vallet er αἰ. [1983] 12-13, Fig. 12). Sixthcentury structures from potters’ and coroplasts’ workshops

adjacent to the

circuit wall on the south plateau of the Archaic city may be evidence of an

artisans’ quarter proper (Broise, Gras & Tréziny [1983] 650). Messana Although there are no remains of kilns from the early history of the site, there is evidence of a late eighth/seventh-century local production inspired by Euboian and Korinthian imports, with the numerous examples of imitiation wares and Thapsos wares finding a market in the Zanklean and Rhegian sub-colonies

of Mylai and Metauros. Ionic cups, at first imported, were later produced locally from the early sixth century ( survey of evidence: Bacci [1987] 249-257, 268-273). A small workshop with at least four kilns is Hellenistic, but it was

located in the core of the Archaic city and continuity of production cannot be

ruled out (Scibona [1987] 453-454). Metapention One of the best investigated artisans’ quarters in Western Greece is that of Metapontion. An extensive area with potters’ workshops productive from the mid-sixth century to the third century was located on the outskirts of the city, inside the circuit wall by one of the plateiai, north of the agora and the urban sanctuary. Kilns were installed inside flimsy structures, but the strong circuit wall made up the back-wall of some of them. The excavators have interpreted the area not as an industrial quarter as such, but rather as various workshops interspersed with private habitation which evolved along a main route of communication and not as a demarcated area laid out after a preconceived master plan (D’Andria [1975]). During the early history of Metapontion Ionic cups, kotylai and other East Greek shapes (D’Andria [1980] 118; for the production of Ionic cups in Magna Graecia: Guzzo [1978] 123-128), but also shapes based upon local indigenous vase types, came out of the workshops. Local, indigenously-inspired pottery came

102

TOBIAS FISCHER-HANSEN

to compete with the Korinthian, Attic and Lakonian wares and were exported to sites in the hinterland as far away as Garagusa. The potters’ workshops also influenced a Greek-inspired production in the indigenous centres at Pisticci, Pomarico and Cozzo Presepe. The pioneering Proto-Loukanian Red-Figured workshops

of the Amykos,

Pisticci and

Dolon

Painters

from

the late fifth

century were active at Metapontion, testimony to the strong tradition of pot-

tery production at the site (D’Andria [1980] 125-126; Trendall [1983] 33-34). Although normally defined as a potters’ quarter there is also evidence that metal workshops were in use, revealed by the slags and bloom found in the zone; and figurines testify to terracotta production: all in all testimony to a wide range of activities. Apart from the larger workshop area there were other centres of production in the city in the Archaic phase and several kilns have been found on the margin of the early nucleus of the city (Adamesteanu [1970]

485, Fig. 481.4.7.8). Monte Bubbonia This site in the hinterland of Gela is an example of an original indigenous site where the degree of Hellenisation is revealed also by a number of kilns located

outside the circuit wall, possibly a small industrial quarter, dated late sixth century, with kilns for the production of votive statuettes and vases (Adamesteanu [1957b]

168).

Monte San Mauro

Important Hellenised site, or even a Greek foundation if correctly identified with the Leontine foundation of Sicilian Euboia, with rich remains of production and workshops. Especially noteworthy is the house with 12 andae of

various type, undecorated, painted and relief-decorated, apparently some sort of production

centre

dating

from

the sixth century.

Finds

of matrices

for

architectural terracottas have revealed a sixth/fourth-century production (Spigo

[1986b]). Montescagltoso The Loukanian settlement at Montescaglioso near Matera with several remains of kilns had a considerable ceramic production. Of specific interest is the con-

tinuity of production from the seventh century, Iron Age Geometric, indigenous period to the fifth-century production of Loukanian Red-Figure wares. Tiles with a third century dedication of ἃ kerameus (Δάζιμος κεραμεὺς χαῖρε) show that the industrial activities continued into this period (Lo Porto [1973] 181-182).

ERGASTERLA IN THE WESTERN GREEK WORLD

103

Morgantina

The best documented potters’ workshops in Sicily are undoubtedly those excavated at Morgantina, recently published by Cuomo di Caprio. Ten kilns served six workshops of which five were located in the area of the agora, the sixth in the west residential quarter; all date to the Late Hellenistic-Roman period (Cuomo di Caprio [1992a]). However, earlier kilns from the fifth to the third centuries

are also

known

from

Morgantina

(these

are listed

in the

chart

p. 111). Some were located outside the urban area, some in the vicinity of the

agora, and others near the agora but outside the circuit wall (Cuomo di Caprio [1992a] 4-5). Naxos A kerameikos occupying an area of about 1,000m? has been excavated on the clay hills north of the city on one of the main routes north of the Archaic city,

leading from this to the Archaic cemetery and to the harbour. Kilns were located in the open and adjacent structures seem to have housed facilities for the working of the clay (Fig. 1) (Pelagatti [1968-69]

350-352, pls. 57.2, 59;

[1972] 213-215). The kerameikos was in use from the early sixth century and through the fifth century, finally extending over a large area as revealed by a fifth-century kiln located nearer the harbour (Pelagatti [1980-81] 696-697, pl. 140.c). Apart from the kilns used in pottery production, large kilns were used for the production of architectural terracottas (Pelagatti [1965] 88-89, 93). A deposit of matrices found within the city has revealed yet another production area for votive terracottas (Pelagatti [1972]

217). There was already a sub-

stantial local vase production in the eighth century which may have taken place in smaller units inside the city, in the various habitation zones (Lentini [1990]). With the commencement of a more extensive production, also of architectural terracottas, this moved outside the city.

Two large kilns within the sanctuary in the south west part of the city, the so-called ‘Aphrodision’, were in use from the end of the seventh century, i.e.

the early phase of the sanctuary, producing architectural terracottas and votive terracottas (Pelagarti [1964] 153-154). Further evidence of potters’ activity is known from an area outside the city, from the area west of the River Severa, partly in the area of the sanctuary located here and partly en route to the Classical cemetery. Kilns document a versatile industrial activity, with a vase production, mainly of Ionic cups of a type diffused at Naxos, going back to the end of the seventh century. The larger of these kilns may have been used for architectural terracottas. Tiles were produced in other kilns from the fifth century. The layout of the whole work zone seems to reveal an overall organisation of the activities around an

TOBIAS FISCHER-HANSEN

104

open space. The production continued into the Hellenistic period (Lentini [1984-85] 478-479, 480-481). Oppido Lucano Oinotrian Sub-Geometric Oppido ware, found widely in Oinotrian sites, may

have been produced here (Yntema [1990] 314-317). The kilns excavated at the site were located in the habitation area and not in a separate workshop area, but even so production compnised also larger vessels, architectural terracottas and tiles. Production continued through the settlement’s Hellenised phase, offering valuable evidence of the continuity of production from the eighth to the third century (Lissi Caronna [1983] 320-321, 351; [1990-91] 313-317, 342). Pisncct Pisticci in the hinterland of Siris and Metapontion has yielded even more evidence

of Metapontine

and

Siritide

production.

Kilns,

located

on

the

outskirts of the settlement, have revealed a local production of eighth/seventh century Geometric, Japygian wares. Along with discards from this pottery production fragments were found of early seventh-century Greek Geometric wares, colonial imitations of Cycladic-Euboian vessels, probably produced in Siris and exported to this centre where they became models for a local production (Lo Porto [1973]

155-157; Tagliente [1985] 288). The evidence

from this site, and from other sites in the hinterland, point to Hellenisation of production before the settlements became fully Hellenised and assumed the role of phrouria. The Hellenisation is borne out by a production of colonial imitations of Ionic cups in the seventh and sixth centuries, concluding with a

probable production of Proto-Loukanian and Apulian Red-Figure vases (Lo Porto [1973] 178-180; Osanna [1992] 83-84). The late sixth century terracotta pyramid with a dedication to Herakles by the potter Nikomachos from near Pisticci may be taken as a testimony of the social standing of local potters

(Guarducci [1974] 556-557; Jeffery, LSAG, 255.16). Pithekoussat

The industrial quarter was located on the outskirts of the settlement, a suburban complex in the form of at least three separate nuclei. In the metalworking quarter of Mazzola, with remains of forges, debris, bloom and iron slags, metal was extensively worked from the second half of the eighth century, with evidence also of processed bronze and lead (D’Agostino [1980] Ridgway

180-186;

[1992] 91-99). A weight on the Euboian standard has revealed also

a jeweller’s workshop from the early seventh century (Ridgway [1992] 95). The earliest known Greek potter’s signature and the abundant evidence of locally-

ERGASTERIA IN THE WESTERN GREEK WORLD

105

produced wares is proof of local ceramic production, though there are as yet no remains from potters’ workshops or quarters (Jeffery, LSAG, 453.1a; Ridgway [1992] 96, Fig. 26, 101). The Pithekoussaian production of metal objects and ceramics exerted influence on surrounding areas, types of metalwork produced at Pithekoussai transformed or innovated local customs,

and there is evidence of Pithekoussaian ceramic craftmen moving to Etruria (D’ Agostino [1980] 181, 183; Ridgway (1992) passım). Pomanco Vecchio A Hellenised Loukanian site with an urban layout inspired by that of Metapontion and Herakleia. Workshop evidence ofsixth-century pottery production has revealed a variety of Metapontine types of wares, and the question of Hellenisation and itinerant artisans has been raised in connection with the site (Barra Bagnasco [1992-93] 222-225). Tiles and vessels were produced in the same workshops. Roccagloriosa

Artisan activities have been documented in several zones at Roccagloriosa in Western Loukania, partly inside the fortified settlement and partly outside. A

workshop was associated with the residential area on the central plateau, where a kiln was installed in a private dwelling, with evidence of production from the late fourth century to the third century. The workshop also produced archi-

tectural terracottas (Gualtien [1993] 656, 257, 335). Outside the citadel a vast zone of about 1,000m? has revealed traces of pottery, terracotta and metal production, but as no structural remains have been identified the interpretation

of an artisans’ quarter must remain uncertain (Gualtieri [1993] 69-70). Finally, iron and lead production is evidenced from remains of casting and smelting, partly inside and partly in areas outside of the fortified settlement (Gualtieri

[1993] 308-310). The amount of evidence of artisan activity at the site is noteworthy and the level of technology was highly developed. For our purpose it

is of some interest to note that the prestigious black glaze Greek wares were first imported and afterwards imitated at the site (Gualtieri [1993] 258). San Biagio Excavations in the extra-urban Metapontine sanctuary of Artemis at San Biagio have brought forth a great amount of votive material. Figurines (Olbrich [1979}) and pottery, among which the loutena of colonial type are of special

interest, were produced locally, as we can infer from a kiln with waste from the first half of the sixth century worked on the outkirts of the Artemis sanctuary

(Ugolini [1983]; Osanna [1992] 79-80). The buildings were richly omamented

106

with

TOBIAS FISCHER-HANSEN

architectural

terracottas,

among

the

earliest

in Western

Greece

and

probably evidence of a production attached to a sanctuary (Olbrich [1986]). Scornavacche The case of the Greek settlement at Scornavacche, a Timolean settlement from

the middle of the fourth century, in the South-East of Sicily in the hinterland of Kamarina is especially illustrative of a community which seems to have had an economy

in large measure

based upon a

fictile production.

The

whole

settlement is called a kerameikos by its excavator, an interpretation based upon

the numerous small kilns and production units found in most parts of the settlement and the large quantity of terracotta statuettes and moulds, a pro-

duction which hardly served only the small insignificant zemenos (Di Vita [1959]}. The rare type of figurine of Athena Ergane from the site underlines the workshop

activities.

The

kerameikos

produced

fine Red-Figured

vases

related to the South Italian schools and also vases related to Gnathia wares (Basile [1976]) all evidence ofa sophisticated and diverse production in a small

centre in the hinterland of a major city, Kamarina. Selmous

Potters’ kilns and other traces of artisan activities have been found in the residential areas on the akropolis of Selinous from an early period in the history of the site. Traces of workshop activities from the seventh century, terracottaand metal debris (not the structures as such), have been found in the lowest levels of single lots within the habitation tnsudae in the central urban area on the

akropolis, bordering upon the large sanctuary. In fact 20% of the excavated surface

has

given

up

metal

slags

and

bloom

with

evidence

also

of lead

production. There is some concentration of finds in the outer areas, suggesting

that the main activity may have been on the edge of the habitation zone. However, the evidence points overall to extensive artisan activities. The inconvenience of smoke to an area of residence was apparently overridden by

local conditions such as availability of water, the proximity of main arterial routes and of the sanctuaries. Production seems to have been initiated by the late seventh century, very soon after the foundation of the colony. The last

decade of the seventh century witnessed the production of terracottas and metal

objects,

in the area

of insulae

FF1

- revealed

by matrices

used

in

coroplasts’ and in metal workshops. The evidence shows that different types

of workshops, metal workers, potters’ and coroplasts’ employing workmen of different qualifications, were located in the same area. This seems to indicate

a quasi-industrial quarter comparable to that later known at Lokroi. The early establishment of artisan activities on a sophisticated level, and the

ERGASTERIA

IN THE WESTERN

GREEK WORLD

107

early establishment of a separate artisan quarter was probably characteristic of many of the major colonial cities, but has only been established with certainty at a few of these, apart from at Selinous mainly at Metapontion and at Sins. The

Selinountine

Orientalizing

Black-Figure

is related

to the early wares

known at Megara Hyblaia, the merropolis of Selinous. The importance attached to the potter’s activity is shown, as at Pithekoussai, by the early use of signatures (Paribeni [1978] 240; Villard [1992] 6).

A potter’s kiln worked in the Classical period is evidence of continuity of artisan activities in the area and proof of the continuity of specific functions over a long period,

a phenomenon

known

also from several other sites dis-

cussed here. Even after the 409 destruction of the site by the Carthaginians there are indications of the continued activity in the workshop areas. After the levelling of the site by the Carthaginians the activities practised by the new population and by the remaining Greeks remained essentially artisan, as revealed

by kilns from

this period

(for a survey of the evidence:

Fourmont

[1991]; [1992)). The important evidence of figurines and protomes and other types of votives — not least from the Malophoros sanctuary, apart from the undoubtedly noteworthy production of architectural terracottas — cannot be discussed here. There

is tenuous

evidence

of an

artisans’

quarter

also

on

the

northern,

Manuzzo habitation plateau (Fourmont [1992] 57). Serra di Vaglio Investigations of the eighth-century Iron Age settlement at Serra di Vaglio in Loukania have shown that a workshop area was built adjacent to the habitation area. The purpose of the building was revealed by the large number of baked clay fragments,

iron slags, discards and remains

of a kiln. There

is a clear

distinction between habitation and workshops, but the two functions worked

in concert (Greco [1996] 262-263). After an interval where the area was used as a cemetery it was again, from the sixth century, used for habitation. In this

period the huts were superseded by rectangular houses, some of which carried examples of the earliest architectural terracottas documented in Magna Graecia. Examples of unfinished plaques, in a pre-fired phase of production,

prove local production. Also for this period there is the evidence of workshop areas, with parts of a kiln and various discards. It is significant that the sixthcentury settlement had distinct residential areas and workshop used in concert with another, a phenomenon shown to apply already to the Iron Age history at the site. The settlement has therefore revealed a continuity in the division

of function of the different urban elements (Greco [1996] 275-277). The artisans’ quarter laid out as such during the early history of the site continued

108

TOBIAS FISCHER-HANSEN

as such through various periods and cultural phases, a situation analogous to that revealed at Selinous and at Siris.

Siris There is evidence already from the early Archaic period of potters’ activities at

Policoro, the Siris-phase of the Greek settlement. Kilns were located well within

the late-eighth-century

evidence of locally-produced

habitation

area

on

the upper

plateau,

with

Geometric wares very similar to those known

from the Greek settlement at Incoronata. Later there followed a production of figured wares and Ionic cups. The continuity of substantial industrial activities from the seventh century, Siris-phase to the extensive potters’ activities of the

fifth-century, Herakleia-phase is a noteworthy instance of strong local artisan traditions (Adamesteanu

[1973] 451-453; [1975] 526-527).

In the lower city two areas show industrial activities. The history of the resi-

dential area on the periphery of the fortified, Archaic settlement on the plateau goes back to the early seventh century, and the sixth-century kilns were appa-

rently installed in an area previously occupied by dwellings. However, it is unclear whether habitation continued through the sixth century thereby giving evidence of mixed habitation and workshops

(Tagliente [1986]: kilns with a

production of Ionic cups; for finds of this type from the Demeter sanctuary at Siris see Lo Porto [1967] 182-6). Investigations of the Siris-phase have shown areas of production

over disparate parts of the ancient city, but also some

flexibility of use with changes of status from habitation to production, and with continuity of use of specific areas during the subsequent history of the site. Sybans At Sybaris a sixth-century kiln was placed inside the urban area, in the excavation area ‘Stombi’, in an open space between two substantial buildings.

According to the excavators the buildings endow the area with an impression of artisan activities, although there is no certain evidence as to their function. The production phase seems to span the period from the end of the seventh century to the destruction of Sybaris at the end of the sixth century (Guzzo [1970]

228-231). In the same excavation zone yet another sixth-century kiln

was found, in this case inside a building. The distance between the two kilns,

60m, suggests separate areas of production rather than one vast kerameikos (Guzzo [1973] 30-32). Syracuse At Syracuse potters’ and coroplasts’ workshops, revealed above all by kilns, in

use from the second half of the fourth century have been located in the outer area of the lower Achradina in a zone (Piazza S. Lucia and Villa Maria) where

ERGASTERIA IN THE WESTERN

GREEK WORLD

109

this district joins up with the main artery from the Ortygia, an industrial quarter therefore located on the outskirts of the nodal point of the urban layout

(Fallico [1971] 581-583, 590-594; Lagona [1972-73]). Whether this artisans’ quarter has its origins in an earlier period seems uncertain. The production of votive figurines served the Demeter sanctuary in the vicinity. But the main

importance of the workshop is that Syracuse has proven to be a place of production of Gnathia ware, an indication of Syracusan contacts with Southern Italy (Lagona [1972-73] 93 n. 10, 95 n. 19). Yet another Hellenistic workshop

area has been located on the outskirts of the city north of Achradina (Pelagatti [1973]

108). There is also evidence of continuity of production through the

late Greek and Roman periods. Remains of workshops from the early history of Syracuse are unfortunately lacking, but that there was local production as far back as the earliest days of the colony is revealed for instance by the Fusco

craters, probably produced by Argive immigrant potters (Pelagatti [1982] 148). Taras

Recent exhibitions within the program of I Greci in Occidente have resulted in the publication of a vast amount of information pertaining to artistic production at Taras

(Dell’Aglio

[1996}). The destruction of ancient Taras by the

expansion of modern Taranto has made it difficult to determine the functions of the various settlement zones, but Taras seems

to have been

one of the

richest and most versatile production centres in the Western Greek world. Kilns and furnaces indicate that the early production centres were located in the periphery of the city, though within the circuit wall, and in accordance with

the urban layout, some were located along the road running through the cemetery and apparently used for the production of grave-goods (Lo Porto

[1970] 381; Cuomo di Caprio [1992b] 69-74; Dell’Agtio [1996] 65 n. 66). There is evidence of two workshop zones of which one continued in use from the Archaic period until the second and first centuries. There is also evidence

that some of the workshops were located in the area of the sanctuaries and so served the production of votives (Dell’Aglio [1996] 69-70). Termitito

The indigenous bronze age settlement of Termitito, Hellenised during the seventh century, is located east of Siris. Fragments of pottery and refuse from a kiln testify to a local production of colonial wares, such as local Ionic cups

known also from Siris and Sybaris, with a chronological span from the second halfof the seventh century to the second half of the sixth century. After the end of the sixth century there is no settlement evidence. There

are remains of

seventh-sixth century dwellings in the vicinity (Adamesteanu [1978] 314-15; De Siena [1986] 29).

110

TOBIAS FISCHER-HANSEN

Synoptic tabulation of the evidence ἢ Site

Indu

Ins

+

Akragas

f

Akragas

ς

+

Amendolara

P

+

Amendolara

cl

+

Franc. Marit.

pif?)

+

Gela

Ρ

Gela

pic/a

Gela

Ρ

|_Herakleia L.

pet

|

+

+

[Nekr

++

f

+ ++

Himera

p

+

Hyna

p

Kamarina

pic

Kanysion

p

Kentoripa

p

Kroton

p

Laos

p

Lokroi

p

Lokroi

pia

Lokroi

p

Lokroi

p'fa

Mcdma

p'c'a

++

pic/a

++

+

+

+ ++

+

+ ᾿

+ +

+

+ +++

+ +

Megara Hvblaia

|pic

+

Messana

Ρ

+

'Manfria

+

++

p

Megara Hyblaia_|f

[Wall

+!

Himera

Megara Hyblaia_[p

[Ag

+

|+

Himera

Medma

[Sanct

+ |

| Gnatia

“ Tours

+

+

ERGASTERIA IN THE WESTERN GREEK WORLD

Site

Indu

Ins

Metapontion

pt

+

Metapontion

p

Monte Bubb.

pic

+

C6

Monte San M.

[οἷ

+

C6-4

Montescagl.

Ρ

+

C7-5

Morgantina

p

++

Naxos

p'a

++

Naxos

ς

Naxos

ca

Naxos

pia

Oppido L.

pia

Pisticci

Ρ

JA

Wall

INekr

|

C7

+

+

C5-3 Ce-5

Roccaglorieso

pia

+

Roccaglonoso

p'c/a

Roccaglorioso

f

San Biagio

p'c'a

+

| Selinous

Ρ

| Serra di Vaglio

|p/f/a

C7-6 +

+

+

oi à

+ ++

f

pic

C6 +

Ip

[Date C6-3

+

Pomaria Vecc.

Selinous

Sanct

+

++

Pithekoussai

|| Scornavacc.

Outs

111

C7-4 C7-3

+

C8-5

+

C8-7 Co-4 |

C4

+?

C4

+

C4 +

C6

+++

C4

+++

C7-4

+

C7-6 +

C8-6

Sirs

Ρ

++

Siris

P

(+)

Sybaris

p

+

C7-6

Sybaris

P

+

C7-6

Syracuse

pic

+

+

Taras

pif

++

++

Termitio

Indu = industry a = architectural c = coroplastic p = pottery f = metal foundry, bronze or iron cl = cloth industry

C8-6

(+)

+

C6

C4 ++

C7-4 C7-6

Outs = on the periphery or outside habitation zone Sanct = in or by sanctuary Ag = in agora Wall = by a city-wall Nekr = by a nekropolis

Ins = inside habitation zone

Several entries of one site in diagram denote different locations; different industries listed together denote that these were part of the same workshop area; several crosses in a group denote workshops in the vicinity of each other.

112

TOBIAS FISCHER-HANSEN

Tav.

LIX

‘

Uy

on

PR

ἣ ΕΣ ξ

:

ΠῚ

abs

Bug ph,

has

ΜΝ

cae eri

|

|

(rilievo

a

|

\

« Ceramice »

ἢ

ΜΕ

|

}

Ε

4

;

-

j

foro

᾿ :

|

ΕἸ

Εἰ

y

4

“δ

:

i?

+

ἢ

il ar

τὰ

-

wal᾿

+

-

| ἢ os

Cls

i

x} ὁ: et | ot

-

À

! ch "

if

Un Feu

{

del

{

᾿

Ὁ

Pr

Fig. 1. The kerameikos north of the city at Naxos (Kokalos [1968-69] pl. 59).

generale

i

Ν

Pianimetrin

.

KR.

4

Naxos.

"

Simoncini).

i ΒΕ

ERGASTERIA

IN

THE

WESTERN

GREEK

WORLD

113

Conclusion

The chronological framework for this short investigation is primarily the Archaic and Classical periods; however the the fourth century evidence from

Herakleia, Lokroi and Syracuse has been included as it offers indispensable evidence for the continuity of workshop activities. Only in a few cases are large artisan quarters preserved, as at Lokroi and

Metapontion. Workshops are in most cases identified by, at the most, a few kilns or furnaces, or only by the debris and waste from workshop activities. Even so, a picture emerges of numerous artisan activities taking place at many

settlements, It is clear that noteworthy artisan activities began very soon after foundation, as shown by the production of local pottery and by the rich votive finds in the

sanctuaries and the early production of architectural terracottas. It emerges also that there is clear evidence that production was based not upon internal, local purposes, but upon external trade, as seen, for instance, at Gela where the the Greek colonial production interacted with, and was influenced by, indigenous products. Already from the earliest history of the Greek founda-

tions the local products of single sites are found in several other cities joined together in a trade network,

as documented

at Pithekoussai,

Naxos,

Zan-

kle/Messana and at other sites. It is not possible here to go into a review of the

artisans’ contacts and reciprocal influences between the Western Greek cities. It should suffice to refer to just one recent, thorough investigation of the cultural and artistic interrelations between

the workshops of Naxos

and its

settlements in the hinterland and Rhegion with its secondary foundations of Medma and Metauros, with examples of interchange of not only finished products but also of workshop furniture such as matrices.'®

Another factor to emerge is that workshop areas seem to have succeeded each other across considerable periods of time, sometimes up to several centuries. As documented

this is often regardless of a change of status, as wit-

nessed above all at Selinous where the activities of the artisan quarter on the akropolis continued in the Carthaginian period. Similar evidence is offered by several of the indigenous sites, where a change to the status of a Hellenised site

is revealed in the artisan quarters only by a change of product, as witnessed at Kanysion. When

the Attic potters started production in the Loukanian and

Sicilian cities, they found workshops prepared for the undertaking.'”

The testimony as outlined seems to show that workshop areas were not laid out separately from the residential areas, apart from perhaps at Naxos. Where workshops are concentrated in groups, as at Lokroi and at Herakleia, they were

114

TOBIAS FISCHER-HANSEN

not segregated but they were part of a habitation quarter which may have served primarily the workshops, but which may have served other groups of the population as well. The nature of the evidence is often insufficient to help us

understand the forms of organisation behind the production and layout of artisan quarters, but separate kerametkoi are not in evidence. Clearly distinct artisans’ quarters in the Archaic, or even in the Classical period, are not that well documented

even in Greece.'® It is, however noticeable

that artisans’

activities could be concentrated on the outskirts of the settlement, often just

inside or just outside the circuit walls. Workshops serving pnmarily sanctuaries are documented too, for instance at Selinous and at Himera. Ingrid Edlund has shown that terracotta production was linked to urban and rural sanctuaries in Etruria and in Magna Graecia and that production served to satisfy a wider demand than merely that of the local sanctuary. Edlund even suggests that the continuity over a wider span of time of the rural sanctuaries and the industries attached to these could have been a stabilizing factor, not least during the disruptive third century.!° The clear evidence outlined above of continuity of production at several sites suggests that this stabilizing, economic factor could also be argued for earlier periods. The enormous output needed to meet the needs of, for instance, the structural activities of the early sanctuaries in Etruria and Latium, and what this entails for craft specialisation has also been documented by Nijboer with the use of the primary evidence for

artisan production, such as the workshops.” The close relationship between cemeteries and potters’ workshops is well known and need not detain us here; however instances of close relationship between tomb-gifts and production is, apart from at Taras and at Kamarina,

not so well documented in the West.”!

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Scibona, G. 1987. “Puntifermi e problemi di topografia antica a Messina: AmıTaranto 26: 247-274. Spadea, R. 1983. “La topografia,” Am Taranto 23: 119-166.

1966-1986,”

Spagnolo, G. 1991. “Recenti scavi nell’area della vecchia stazione di Gela,” Quaderni dell Istiruto di archeologia della Facolta di letztere e filosofia della Universua di Messina 6: 5570. Spigo, U. 1986a. “Nuovi contributi allo studio di forme e upi della coroplastica delle citta greche della Sicilia ionica e della Calabria meridionale,” AmiTaranto 26: 275-335.

ERGASTERIA IN THE WESTERN

GREEK WORLD

119

Spigo, U. 1986b. “L’anonimo centro di Monte 5. Mauro di Caltagirone nel quadro dell’ arcaismo siceliota: prospettive di ricerca,” Miscellanea Greca e Romana 10: 1-32. Tagliente, M. 1985. “Nuovi documenti su Pisticci in eta arcaica. I. Lo scavo,” PP 40: 284294.

Tagliente, M. 1986. “Policoro: nuovi scavi nell’area di Siris,” in De Siena & Tagliente (1986) 129-133. Taglioni, C. 1997. “Le fornaci del sepolcreto San Vitale di Bologna,” Ocnus 5 (1997) 207224.

Trendall, A.D. 1967. The Red-Figured Vases of Lucama, Campania, and Sicily (Oxford). Trendall, A.D. 1983. The Red-Figured Vases of Lucania, Campania and Sicily I Suppl. = BICS Suppl. 41 (London).

Ugolini, D. 1983. “Tra perirrantheria, louteria € thymiateria. Note su una classe ceramica da S. Biagio della Veneila (Metaponto),” MEFRA 95: 449-472. Vallet, G. & Villard, F. 1964. Megara Hyblaia 2. La céramique archaïque (Rome). Vallet, G., Villard, F. & Auberson, P. 1976. Megara Hyblata 1. Le Quartier de l’Agora Archaique (Rome). Vallet, G., Villard, F. & Auberson, P. 1983. Megara Hyblaia 3. Guida agit scavi (Rome). Various authors. 1978. Les céramiques de la Grèce de l'est et leur diffusion en Occident, Centre Jean Bérard

1976 (Naples).

Various authors. 1986. 1 Grect sul Basento. Mostra degli scavi archeologia all’Incoronata di Metaponto 1971-1984 (Como). Villard, F. 1992. “Les céramiques locales: problémes généraux,” in Blondé & Perreault (1992) 3-9. Voza, G. 1973. “Cultura artistica fino al V secolo a.C.,” in Romeo (1979) II: 103-128. de Waele, J. 1980. “Agrigento. Gli scavi sulla Rupe Atenea (1970-1975),” NSc: 395-452. Yntema, D. 1990. The Matt-Patnted Pouery of Southern Italy (Congedo).

NOTES 1. 2.

Hansen (1996) 58-59 (entries 30-33). Arecent exhaustive survey of the evidence from Lokroi Epizephyrioi, Herakleia, Metapontion and ‘Taras by various authors is found in Lippolis (1996); for potters’ quarters in Magna Graecia: Cuomo di Caprio (1992b). For Sicily see Martin, Pelagarti & Vallet (1979); Voza (1979); Coarelli (1979); Cuomo di Caprio (1992a) 69-78 catalogues the ancient kilns known from Sicily and Papadopoulos (1994) 151-153 offers a rich annotated bibliography. C. Morgan and J. Coulton treat the subject in their survey “The Pos as a Physical Entity”, though mainly with evidence from Greece itself (Morgan & Coulton [1997] 99-104). An exhaustive study of the early Greek evidence, comprising

3.

the Archaic

period,

is found

in Lang

(1996)

128-137.

For the subject

matter under discussion here the epigraphic evidence is poor - as in other fields within Western Greek archaeology. There is obviously no pretence of an exhaustive treatment, which in any case is restricted by the often inadequate reports (cf. Papadopoulos [1995] 152) - nor of an inclusion of all relevant sites. Paola Pelagatti has kindly given permission to reproduce Fig. 1 from her excavation at Naxos. All dates are BC. Ergasterion used in the meaning of workshop: Ariat. Dec. 1346610, 1351010; Ath. 5.220E, 6.256A, 6.258C (citing Alexis Comicus); Paus. 5.15.1 (Phidias’ workshop); of factory: Lys. 12.8, 12; Dem. 27.9 and passim. But, as is well known, the term had several other meanings, as outlined so well by Aeschin. 1.124. Also: mine or mining property: Isae. 3.22; Dem. 37.5 and passim, Aeschin.

1.101; shop: Isocr. 7.15; Diod.

13.84.2; Dem.

25.56; Aeschin.

1.97; fuller’s

workshop: Hdt. 4.14; storeroom: Hyp. 5.col.3, 4; barber’s shop: Ath. 12.518A (in an Etruscan context); gang of men, with a negative connotation:

Dem.

32.10; 37.39; 39.2; brothel:

Dem.

120

TOBIAS FISCHER-HANSEN

59.67; Ep. 4.1; workshop in sense of sculptors’ school: Paus. 5.25.13. For the figurative sense, of a group of slaves, see Finley (1951) 67-68; a survey of the terminology is given by Finley (1951) 65-71.

Finley (1951) 66. In the Aoroi inscriptions the contexts of the references to ergasteria show that these are considered buildings.

Ridgway (1992) 101, 136-137. D'Agostino (1980 [1972]) 186. The stylistic relationships berween the porters’ workshops of the first Sicilian colonies and the influence these exerted upon the early Etruscan vase painters has been usefully analysed by Martelli (1984).

D'Agostino (1980 [1972]) 187. For Rhegion as place of production of Chalkidian Black-Figure: Iozzo (1994) passim, esp. 254255. For find places: Iozzo (1994) 247-257.

Finley (1983). Hansen (1997) 43-44.

For a detailed analysis of the ancient sources and ἃ rejection of this model see Hansen (1997) 4751.

Survey of recent research: Morris (1994) 363-364.

15.

Albanese Procelli (1995) 36-37. The interpretation of the building has been questioned but the recent publication by Bernabö Brea (1990) especially 73-77, 101, seems conclusive. Alberi et al. (1981). Quarters for specialised production are probably already known from Late Bronze

16.

Age

Buccino,

where

not less than

19

kilns for ceramic

production

were

excavated

(Holloway et al. (1975]), Spigo (1986a). For the role of workshops and of craft specialisation in interrelarionships of urban centres and hinterland in Central Italy, see Nijboer (1998) passim, esp. 36-41.

17. 18.

Lang (1996) 135-136.

19.

Edlund (1984).

20. 21.

Nijboer (1997) & (1998).

Cf. MacDonald

(1981)

159-161.

For Iron Age Italy and a recent well-documented presentation of evidence see Taglioni (1997) esp. 219.

Grenzfestungen und Verkehrsverbindungen In Nordost-Attika.

Zur Bedeutung der attisch-boiotischen Grenzregion um Dekeleia PETER FUNKE

Im dritten Buch der xenophontischen Memorabilia verwickelt Sokrates den jüngeren Perikles in ein längeres Gespräch über die politische und militärische Lage Athens. Am

Ende dieses Dialogs kommt Sokrates auch auf die Vertei-

digung der Grenzen zu sprechen, und zwar wie folgt: “Hast du aber dies bedacht, Perikles, so fuhr er fort, daß unserem Land große Gebirge vorgelagert sind, welche sich bis nach Boiotien erstrecken, durch welche in unser Land nur

enge und steile Zugänge führen, und daß es rings von schützenden Bergen umschlossen ist? Ich weiß es, war die Antwort.

... Glaubst du nun nicht, so

fragte er weiter, daß die attischen Epheben, wenn sie mit leichteren Waffen

ausgerüstet auch die unserem Land vorgelagerten Gebirge besetzen würden, die Feinde schädigen, den Mitbürgern aber einen starken Schutz für das Land gewähren

könnten?

Ich bin völlig überzeugt,

Sokrates,

daß auch dies von

Nutzen sein würde, war Perikles’ Antwort”.’ Knapper und treffender lassen

sich die strategische Lage im nordattischen Grenzgebiet und die daraus abzuleitenden Verteidigungsmaßnahmen kaum beschreiben. Und es steht wohi

außer Frage, daß Xenophon bei der Niederschrift die Gegebenheiten der attischen Grenzverteidigung vor Augen standen, wie wir sie auch aus der Beschreibung der aristotelischen Athenaion Politeia kennen.?

Artika wird bekanntlich nach Norden hin gegen Boiotien von fast durchgehenden, an ihrem höchsten Punkt bis auf über 1500 m ansteigenden Ge-

birgszügen abgeschottet, die nur an einigen Stellen von mehr oder weniger leicht zugänglichen Paßwegen in Nord-Süd-Richtung durchzogen werden, welche in der Antike und zum Teil dann auch im Mittelalter durch zahlreiche

militärische Vorposten und Beobachtungsplätze und Festungen gesichert waren. Den Hauptriegel bilden das Kithairon-Gebirge und das Parnes-Massiv, zwischen denen

die Hochebene

von Skurta ein Bindeglied bildet. In diese

Hochebene mündet die an der athenischen Grenzfestung Phyle vorbeiführende Paßstraße nach Boiotien. Ein nicht ganz 400 m hoher Sattel trennt den Parnes vom Pentelikon-Gebirge und dem nordattischen Bergland mit dem markanten

122

PETER FUNKE

Mavronoros;’ nur das Gebiet von Oropos liegt nördlich dieser Kette und ist

daher geographisch eher auf Boiotien ausgerichtet, was ja bekanntlich auch dazu geführt hat, daß die Oropia einen ständigen Zankapfel zwischen Athen

und Boiotien bildete.* Die archäologischen Überreste in diesem nordattischen Grenzbereich sind

— ganz anders als in den meisten übrigen Teilen Atukas — auch heute noch in einer erstaunlich großen Anzahl und vielfach auch noch in einem verhältnismäßig guten Zustand anzutreffen. Neben den Spuren einer sehr intensiven Besiedlung in den Talrandlagen und Beckenlandschaften der Gebirge finden sich an zahlreichen exponierten Plätzen und strategisch günstigen Punkten

Baureste von Anlagen, die zweifellos Verteidigungs- und Beobachtungszwecken und der Kontrolle der Wegeverbindungen dienten.’ Durch eine intensive landeskundliche Untersuchung ließe sich ein sehr genaues Bild der regionalen Binnenstruktur dieses Teils von Artika nachzeichnen, zumal die mit

äußerster Präzision unter der Leitung von E. Curtius und J.A. Kaupert im letzten Drittel des vergangenen Jahrhunderts durchgeführte kartographische Aufnahme Attikas im Maßstab 1:25 000 und die dazu gehörigen “Erläuternden Texte” von Arthur Milchhoefer manche Lücken zu schließen vermögen,

die auch in dieser Region durch moderne Baumaßnahmen etc. gerissen worden sind.* Umso mehr erstaunt es, daß bisher in der Forschung ein insgesamt

recht grobes und holzschnittartiges Bild der antiken Siedlungs- und Verkehrsverhältnisse in Nordattika vorherrscht. Dies gilt in besonderer Weise für die

Region östlich des Parnes, das Gebiet von Dekeleia über Aphidnai bis nach Rhamnous.

Ich verweise hier nur auf die diesbezügliche Untersuchung von J.

Ober, die in dieser Hinsicht meines Erachtens im Vergleich zu den älteren Arbeiten etwa von McCredie keinen Fortschritt darstellt.’ Das von Ober entworfene

Bild der verkehrsmäßigen

Binnenstruktur der

Grenzregion um Dekeleia unterscheidet sich kaum von den bisherigen Entwürfen und spiegelt entsprechend die landläufige Vorstellung wider. Hiernach gab es insgesamt drei Hauptwege, die im Nordosten von Attika nach Boiotien

bzw. Oropos führten. Am weitesten im Osten verlief die von Pausanias erwähnte Küstenstraße von Marathon über Rhamnous nach Oropos, deren Verlauf ich hier nicht diskutieren möchte; weiter im Westen werden dann in der

Regel zwei Wegeverbindungen in Nord-Süd-Richtung angenommen, von denen die eine über Aphidnai und die andere über Dekeleia und die östlichen Ausläufer des Parnes führt.® Es sind dies die beiden gleichen Routen, die auch

noch heute als wichtige Verkehrsverbindungen dienen. Dabei hat die Strecke am antiken Aphidnai vorbei zunächst durch den Bau einer Eisenbahnverbindung und dann in den vergangenen Jahrzehnten vor allem durch den Autobahnbau gegenüber der Dekeleia-Route eine absolute Vorrangstellung erhalten

GRENZFESTUNGEN UND VERKEHRSVERBINDUNGEN IN NO-ATTIKA

123

und ist zur wichtigsten Nord-Süd-Verbindung Mittelgriechenlands geworden. Es

ist nun

unbestritten,

daß

sowohl

die

Dekeleia-Route

wie

auch

die

Aphidnai-Route auch schon in der Antike genutzt wurden. Für beide Wege

gibt es - wenn auch spärliche -- archäologische und literarische Zeugnisse, auf die noch zurückzukommen sein wird. Fraglich bleibt allerdings, inwieweit die

in der Forschung fast einhellig vertretene Auffassung das Richtige trifft, derzufoige nicht - wie heute -- die östlichere der beiden Wegeverbindungen die Haupttrasse

von

Athen

nach

Oropos

und

Boiotien

bildete,

sondern

die

Paßstraße über Dekeleia; dem Weg über Aphidnai sei - zumindest bis in die hellenistische Zeit — nur eine ganz untergeordnete, eher lokale Bedeutung zugekommen.® Man mag diese Frage nach den Wegeverbindungen zunächst

für unwesentlich halten, zumal beide Routen in verhältnismäßig geringem Abstand weitgehend nebeneinander verlaufen. Es gilt jedoch zu bedenken, daß

eine angemessene Beurteilung der strategischen Ziele und der Auswirkungen der spartanischen Besetzung Dekeleias, die ja fraglos zu den einschneidendsten Ereignissen des Peloponnesischen Krieges zählte, aufs Engste mit dieser Frage

verbunden ist, die daher durchaus eine eingehendere Behandlung verdient. Die Grundlage für die landläufige Einschätzung des Wegesystems bildet eine Notiz des Thukydides,

in der es heißt, daß es vor der Besetzung Dekeleias

durch die Lakedaimonier im Jahre 413 v. Chr. für die Athener schneller und billiger gewesen sei, das Lebensnotwendigste aus Euboia - zu denken ist hier

wohl in erster Linie an Vieh und Getreide - von Oropos zu Lande über Dekeleia (διὰ τῆς Δεκελείας) nach Athen zu schaffen; nach der Besetzung sei man auf den kostspieligeren Seetransport um Sunion herum angewiesen gewesen.”

Ist aber diese Anmerkung des Thukydides wirklich hinreichend, um daraus den Schluß ziehen zu können, daß die Hauptverkehrsachse zwischen Athen und der Oropia im eben beschriebenen Sinne direkt über Dekeleia nordwärts

verlief? Die Überprüfung der möglichen Wegeverbindungen anhand der bis heute unübertroffenen Artika-Karten von Curtius und Kaupert sowie die Autopsie des Geländes, die ich zu Beginn der 90er Jahre vornehmen konnte,

haben mich skeptisch gestimmt. Der Weg, der auf den ersten flüchtigen Blick als der entschieden direktere und kürzere der beiden Zugänge nach Norden erscheint,'' erweist sich beim

genaueren

Studium

des Wegeverlaufes

unter

Berücksichtigung der jeweiligen Geländeformationen — Steigungen, Wegführungen in Serpentinen, Flußüberquerungen etc. — keineswegs als die kürzere

Verbindung sowohl zwischen Athen und Oropos als auch zwischen Athen und der boiotischen Grenze; vielmehr unterscheidet sich die Gesamtlänge beider Wege - wenn überhaupt - nur ganz unwesentlich. Bleibt das Argument des

bequemeren Zugangs und der vor allem für den Warentransport geeigneteren Streckenführung. Aber gerade mit diesem Argument läßt sich meines Er-

124

PETER FUNKE

achtens die Präferenz für die Dekeleia-Paß-Route nicht begründen. Eher das Gegenteil scheint der Fall zu sein. Um dies nachweisen zu können, ist es notwendig, den Verlauf der beiden in

Frage stehenden Routen genauer in Augenschein zu nehmen, und zwar mittels der erwähnten Artika-Karten, da die normalerweise herangezogenen “Faustskizzen” wenig hilfreich sind.'? Vorab aber zunächst einige wenige Anmerkun-

gen zur Lage des attischen Demos Dekeleia, dessen Lokalisierung bei dem ehemaligen Dörfchen Tatoi - vor allem aufgrund epigraphischer Funde - heute als gesichert gelten kann. Nach Ausweis antiker Bauspuren befand sich das Demenzentrum offenbar an der Stelle, an welcher im vergangenen Jahrhundert unter der Regentschaft König Georgs I. ein königliches Mustergut und die

königliche Sommerresidenz errichtet worden waren -- und zwar genau in einer breiten Mulde

zwischen dem

ehemaligen

Schloßpark und

dem

südlich ge-

legenen “Palaeokastro”,'? auf dem sich noch heute die Gräber der griechischen

Königsfamilie befinden und der im Dekeleischen Krieg von den Lakedaimoniern befestigt und zum Ausgangspunkt

ihrer Einfälle nach Artika gemacht

worden

führte von Athen

war. Die Dekeleia-Paß-Route'*

aus zunächst auf

einer Strecke von ca. 16 km fast geradewegs nach Norden - allmählich bis auf eine Höhe von 300 m ansteigend - bis zum Fuß des östlichen Ausläufers des Parnes. Hier beginnt auch heute noch der eigentliche Aufstieg zur Paßhöhe.

Auf einer Strecke von ca. 6 km steigt der Weg - unmittelbar am Demenzentrum bei Tatoi vorbeiführend - zu einem Sattel in 640 m Höhe hinauf. Diese Paßhöhe, die heute den bezeichnenden Namen to Kleidi trägt, wird im Osten vom

770 m hohen

Strongili beherrscht und im Westen vom

850 m

hohen Katsimidi, auf dessen Spitze sich noch die Reste eines kleinen antiken

Wachtkastells oder Beobachtungspostens erhalten haben.'” Von hier gelangt der Weg dann nach ungefähr 4 km zu einem zweiten Sattel mit 630 m Höhe,

kurz vor dem heutigen Kirchlein Hagios Merkurios, am westlichen Ausläufer des

840

m

hohen

Beletsi,

auf dem

sich ebenfalls Überreste

eines

kleinen

antiken militärischen Vorpostens’® befinden. Von Hagios Merkurios aus führt der Weg dann auf einer Strecke von ca. 6 km in steilen Windungen

in das

Becken von Malakasa auf eine Höhe von unter 200 m hinab. Hier verzweigt sich der Weg

und

führt

einerseits

durch

das

Kakosalesi-Tal

nach

Tana-

gra/Boiotien und andererseits nordwärts nach Oropos weiter.

Von Osten her führt an diesen Schnittpunkt auch ein Zweig des zweiten, westlich an Aphidnai vorbeiführenden Weges heran, den es nun noch kurz zu

beschreiben gilt.'” Dieser Weg führte von Athen aus zunächst wohl am linken Ufer des Kephisos entlang und lief dann im Bereich der oberen Quellläufe des Kephisos direkt auf den Katiphori-Paß zu, dessen Scheitelhöhe nur 387 m be-

tragt.'® Von hier aus zog sich der Weg am Westrand des Beckens von Aphidnai

GRENZFESTUNGEN

UND VERKEHRSVERBINDUNGEN

IN NO-ATTIKA

125

- längs der östlichen Ausläufer des Parnes — entlang — wie auch heute noch die Eisenbahnstrecke und die Nationalstraße -, um nicht unnötig an Höhe

zu

verlieren und um das recht unwegsame Gelände rings um das Demenzentrum von Aphidnai zu umgehen. Der Weg biegt im weiteren Verlauf dann leicht nach Nordwesten ab, um über den Kolopeza-Paß in das Becken von Malakasa einzumünden. Der Kolopeza-Paß, der sich durch eine Talenge zwischen dem

bereits erwähnten Beletsi im Westen und dem knapp 650 m hohen Mavronoros im Nordosten seinen Weg bahnt,'” stellt kein weiteres Hindernis dar, da

seine Scheitelhöhe von ca. 370 m ja bereits am Katiphori-Paß erreicht war. Am Kolopeza-Paß dürfte ein Abzweig um den Mavronoros herum direkt nach Oropos geführt haben, während der eigentliche Weg beim heutigen Malakasa — wie bereits erwähnt — mit dem Paßweg von Dekeleia zusammentraf. Die beiden

Streckenbeschreibungen

sollten die Vor- und

Nachteile

der

beiden Wegeverbindungen bereits hinreichend deutlich gemacht haben: Der Dekeleia-Paß war zweifellos leichter zu schützen und zu kontrollieren und bildete daher vor allem in Krisenzeiten einen sichereren Übergang; auch dürfte

der Paß für die Athener - vor allem bei den Auseinandersetzungen mit Boiotien - von erheblicher militärischer Bedeutung gewesen sein. All das darf jedoch nicht darüber hinwegtäuschen,

daß

der Weg

über den Dekeleia-Paß

weitaus größere Höhendifferenzen auf einer verhältnismäßig kleinen Strecke und ein entschieden schwierigeres Gelände zu überwinden hatte als der Weg an Aphidnai vorbei, den man getrost als die leichteste aller Nord-Süd-Passagen

in der attisch-boiotischen Grenzregion bezeichnen darf. Und zumindest in Friedenszeiten wird daher dieser Weg und nicht derjenige über den Dekeleia-

Paß als Hauptverkehrsweg in die Oropia gedient haben, zumal wenn man die fur den Wagentransport überaus ungünstige, da sehr steile Streckenführung der Paßroute mit in Betracht zieht. Dagegen läßt sich auch nicht die bei Herodot überlieferte Nachricht ins Feld

führen, derzufolge sich Mardonios nach der Verwüstung Athens und nach einem ergebnislosen Ausgreifen in die Megaris 479 v. Chr. über den Paß von

Dekeleia nach Boiotien ins Asopos-Tal zurückgezogen hatte.”” Die Textpassage wird oft als Erweis für die Bedeutung dieses Weges als Hauptverkehrsweg in die Oropia angeführt. Diese Herodotnotiz kann meines Erachtens aber ebensogut als Gegenbeweis dienen. Herodot bemerkt nämlich ausdrücklich, daß die

Boiotarchen dem Mardonios Leute aus dem Asopos-Tal schickten, die ihm den - folglich also gerade nicht sehr bekannten - Weg über Dekeleia nach Sphendale”' und weiter nach Tanagra zeigten. Mardonios wählte den - von seinem Ausgangspunkt, dem Grenzgebiet zur Megaris, betrachtet - Umweg über Dekeleia wohl nur, weil ihm eben alle Hauptwege offensichtlich versperrt

waren.

126

PETER FUNKE

Auch die Wegeverhältnisse des 19. und beginnenden 20. Jahrhunderts in dieser Region

können

schwerlich die These stützen, daß der Dekeleia-Paß

auch in der Antike der Verbindung über Aphidnai vorgezogen wurde. Der gute

Ausbau des Weges über Dekeleia und die nur ganz unzureichende Erschliessung des Katiphori- und des Kolopeza-Passes, die auf den Curtius-Kaupertschen Karten deutlich zu erkennen sind, lassen sich wohl auf den Umstand zurückführen, daß - ganz im Gegensatz zur sehr dichten Besiedlung in der Antike und im Mittelalter -- die Grebiete an den Ausläufern des Pentelikon in der Zeit der Türkenherrschaft und insbesondere während der Befreiungskriege

nahezu völlig entvölkert wurden und hier zahlreiche Dörfer gänzlich aufgegeben und zum Unterschlupf von Räuberbanden

wurden.

Noch

zu Milch-

hoefers Zeiten setzten sich erst allmählich Neusiedler in diesen Gebieten fest.” Auch die Errichtung der königlichen Sommerresidenz in Tatoi dürfte für die Entwicklung der modernen Binnenstruktur in dieser Region von Bedeutung gewesen sein. Im Zusammenhang mit der hier diskutierten Frage der Verkehrsverbindungen zwischen Athen und der Oropia ist auch noch ein literarisches Quellen-

zeugnis von Bedeutung: Gemeint sind die Reisebilder Περὶ τῶν ἐν τῇ ᾿Ελλάδι πόλεων des Herakleides (mit dem Beinamen Kritikos oder Kretikos) aus dem

3. Jhdt.v.Chr.” Hierin beschreibt Herakleides auch seinen Weg von Athen nach Oropos, der ihn über Aphidnai führte.”* In den Textkommentaren wird zu dieser Stelle nur angemerkt,

daß Herakleides hier von dem

eigentlichen

Hauptweg über Dekeleia abgewichen sei, um auch das Amphiareion bei Oropos zu besuchen.” Die Anmerkungen des Herakleides sprechen aber doch sehr dafür, daß er sich keineswegs auf Abwege

begeben hatte, sondern durchaus

einen vielbegangenen und keineswegs abseitigen Weg benutzt hat; lobt er doch

die zahlreichen Ruheplätze und Gaststätten, die alles zum Leben Norwendige reichlich bieten und so dem Reisenden die Mühen der Wanderung erträglich

machen.?® Nach Westlake impliziert Herakleides’ Beschreibung, daß später der leichtere Weg über Aphidnai die Normalroute wurde; die Zeugnisse des Herodot und des Thukydides würden jedoch zeigen, daß zumindest im 5. Jhdt. v. Chr.

kein wichtiger Weg über Aphidnai geführt habe.”’ Eine solche Schlußfolgerung erscheint mir allerdings mehr als problematisch. Und es stellt sich nun doch die Frage, ob wir die Aussage des Thukydides, vor der spartanischen Besetzung von

Dekeleia

seien die Transporte

von Oropos

διὰ τῆς Δεχελείας ge-

gangen, nicht ganz einfach allzu sehr pressen, wenn wir dabei nur an die Route über den Katsimidi denken und zu wenig in Betracht ziehen, daß man von Dekeleia

aus eben

nicht nur den

Paß

am

heutigen

Tatoi

vorbei,

sondern

durchaus auch den Weg westlich an Aphidnai vorbei kontrollieren konnte.”®

GRENZFESTUNGEN

UND VERKEHRSVERBINDUNGEN

IN NO-ATTIKA

127

Dieser Weg streifte in seinem Verlauf ja sogar das südöstliche Demengebiet von Dekeleia, verlief also durchaus διὰ τῆς Δεκελείας, und war im übrigen — wie

schon Milchhoefer angemerkt hat?” - durch einen bequemen Querweg, der das dekeleische

Demengebiet

durchzog,

mit dem

anderen

weiter westlich ver-

laufenden Paß verbunden. Es wäre daher sogar zu überlegen, ob nicht auch die oben zitierte Angabe Herodots, das Heer des Mardonios sei 479 v. Chr. διὰ Δεκελέης nach Boiotien gezogen, entsprechend zu interpretieren und ebenfalls auf die westlich an Aphidnai vorbeiführende Route zu beziehen ist. Diese Beobachtungen deutung von Dekeleia.

unterstreichen

die herausragende

strategische Be-

Mit der Besetzung und Befestigung dieses Platzes”

hatten die Lakedaimonier 413 v. Chr. mit einem Schlag die Kontrolle über die gesamte nordostattische Grenzregion gewonnen, da man mit Sicherheit davon ausgehen kann, daß sie zugleich auch die Vorposten und Wachtkastelle auf dem Katsimidi und Beletsi in ihre Gewalt gebracht hatten. Dadurch wurde

eine ständige und ungehinderte Beobachtung nicht nur der Paßwege, sondern der gesamten Oropia bis nach Euboia möglich. Es hieße jedoch, die Besetzung Dekeleias zu unterschätzen, wollte man sie

nur unter dem Blickwinkel einer Kontrolle der genannten Gebiete würdigen, zumal diese nach dem Abfall Euboias und der Einnahme

der Oropia durch

Boiotien im Jahre 412/11 v. Chr. weitgehend obsolet geworden war. Die Ab-

sichten der Lakedaimonier zielten von Anfang an weit darüber hinaus. Mit untrüglicher Sicherheit hatte Alkibiades, der ja den Spartanern den Rat zur Besetzung Dekeleias gegeben harte,” erkannt, daß es kaum einen besseren Ort in Attika gab, von dem aus gleichzeitig so viele Bereiche — eben nicht nur im Nordosten — des attischen Polisgebietes zu überschauen und durch rasche,

überfallartige Ausfälle in Bedrängnis zu bringen waren. Die überaus günstige Lage am Südosthang des Parnes, “gegen die Ebene und die besten Teile des Landes gerichtet, sichtbar bis nach Athen” wie Thukydides” schreibt, bot die besten Voraussetzungen,

von einem

gesicherten

Punkt

aus Athen

in einen

dauernden Kriegszustand zu versetzen.” Führt man

sich diese hervorragende

topographische

Augen, wird man besser verstehen, warum Aphidnai - zu den

Lage

Dekeleias vor

Dekeleia — wie im übrigen auch

12 alten Städten Artikas gerechnet wurde, die schon vor

dem Synoikismos des Theseus bestanden hatten;™ und es erschließt sich auch die strategische Bedeutung des wohl nur wenig weiter westlich von Dekeleia

in vergleichbarer Lage gelegenen Kastells Leipsydrion, das die Alkmaioniden

513 v. Chr. im Kampf gegen Hippias befestigten.”

128

PETER FUNKE

ἔν ΤῈ,

UMGEBUNG αν Wega

νὸν ΠΒΕΒΒΙΑΙ σιν

ΜΗ HETτι ἡ de

.

᾿ era

ar

. Md atch

Abb.

er

1: Nordostattika

Erg

f

GRENZFESTUNGEN

UND

VERKEHRSVERBINDUNGEN

Cr

ἢ

IN NO-ATTIKA

ae mene

ΒΞ

ε--

Abb. 2: Antike Wegeverbindungen zwischen Attika und Boiotien

129

130

PETER FUNKE

BIBLIOGRAPHIE Chandler, L. 1926. “The North-West Frontier of Attica,” {HS 46: 1-21. Classen, J. & Steup, J. 1908. Thukydides, Bd. 7, 3. Aufl. (Berlin). Curtius, E. 1868. Erläuternder Text der sieben Karten zur Topographie von Athen (Gotha). De Voto, J. 1989. “The Liberation of Thebes in 379/8 B.C.,” in R.F. Sutton (Hrsg.), Daidalikon. Studies in Memory of R.V. Schoder (Illinois) 101-116. Dover

(1970) = A.W.

Gomme,

A. Andrewes, & K.J. Dover, A Historical Commentary on

Thucydides Vol. TV (Oxford). KvA (1881-1900) = Curtius, E. & Kaupert, J.A. (Hrsg.), Karten von Atika (Berlin). Lohmann, H. 1993. Atene. Forschungen zur Siedlungs- und Wirtschaftsstrukrur des klassischen Attika (Köln etc.). Lohmann,

H.

1995.

“Die

Chora

Athens

im

4. Jahrhhundert

v. Chr.

Festungswesen,

Bergbau und Siedlungen,” in W. Eder (Hrsg.), Die athentsche Demokrane im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. Vollendung oder Verfall einer Verfassungsform?, (Stuttgart) 515-548. McCredie, J.R. 1966. Fortified Muitary Camps tn Amica (Princeton). Mersch, A. 1996. Srudien zur Stedlungsgeschichte Atttkas von 950 bis 400 v. Chr. (Frankfurt etc.).

Milchhoefer Text, Heft Milchhoefer Text, Heft Milchhoefer

(1889) = Curtius, E. & Kaupert, J.A. (Hrsg.), Karten von Atttka. Erläuiernder III-IV von A. Milchhoefer (Berlin). (1895) = Curtius, E. & Kaupert, J.A. (Hrsg.), Karten von Anika. Erlduternder VII-VoOII von A. Milchhoefer (Berlin). (1900) = Curtius, E. & Kaupert, J.A. (Hrsg.), Karten von Atnka. Erlduternder

Text, Heft IX (Ergänzungsheft) von A. Milchhoefer (Berlin).

Munn, MH. 1983. Studies on the Territorial Defenses of Fourth-Cenrury Athens (Ann Arbor). Ober, J. 1985. Fortress Attica. Defense of the Athenian Land Frontier 404-322 B.C. (Leiden). Ober, J. 1987. “Pottery and Miscellaneous Artifacts from Fortified Sites in Northern and Western Attica,” Hespena 56: 197-227. Petrakos, V.Ch. 1996. Das Amphiareton von Oropos (Athen). Petrakos, V.Ch. 1997. Οἱ ἐπιγραφὲς τοῦ ᾿ΩὩρωποῦ (Athen). Pfister, F. 1951. Die Reisebilder des Herakleides. Einleitung, Text, Übersetzung und Kommentar mit einer Übersicht über die Geschichte der griechischen Volkskunde (Wien). Philippson, A. 1951. Die griechischen Landschaften. Eine Landeskunde I 2: Das östliche Mittelgnechenland und die Insel Euboea (Frankfurt). Philippson, A. 1952. Die griechischen Landschaften. Eine Landeskunde I 3: Attika und Megaris (Frankfurt). Westlake, H.D. 1948. “Athenian Food Supplies from Euboea,” CR 62: 2-5.

ANMERKUNGEN 1.

Xen. Mem. 3,5,25.27 (in der Übersetzung von P. Jaerisch, München 1980”).

2.

Arnst. Ath. Pol. 42,4-5.

3.

Zur geographischen Situation und zum Verlauf der Paßstraßen vgl. Milchhoefer (1889); Milchhoefer (1895); Philippson (1951) 522-547; Philippson (1952) 784-802; Ober (1985) 101-129; De Voto (1989) 108f.

4.

Einen knappen Überblick über die wechseivolle Geschichte der Oropia bietet Petrakos (1996)

5.

Allerdings gilt es, auch die zivile, sprich: bäuerliche Nutzung mancher Baukomplexe stärker in Betracht zu ziehen, als dies landläufig geschieht; darauf hat zu Recht Lohmann (1993) 138f.;

5-11; vgl. auch die Testimoniasammlung bei Petrakos (1997) 487-511.

GRENZFESTUNGEN UND VERKEHRSVERBINDUNGEN IN NO-ATTIKA

131

DEL

Lohmann (1995) 515-523 nachdrücklich hingewiesen. KvA (1881-1900); Milchhoefer (1889); Milchhoefer (1895). Ober (1985); McCredie (1966). Vgl. hierzu die in Anm. 3 genannte Literatur. Westlake (1948) 4 m. Anm. 105-110; Ober (1985) 115. Thuc. 7,28,1.

1; vgl. u.a. auch Curtius (1868) 62; Pfister (1951); Munn (1983)

So zuletzt auch wieder Mersch (1996) 118; vgl. im übrigen die in Anm. 9 genannte Literatur. Hier insbesondere die Kartenblätter XIX (Marathon) und XX (Tatoi); dazu ergänzend die hier

als Anlage 1 beigegebene Karte VII 3 (Die Umgebung von Dekeleia) aus Curtius (1868). Curtius (1868) 62; Milchhoefer (1895) 2-4; McCredie (1966) 56f.; Ober (1985) 141f.; Mersch (1996) 118f. (Nr. 19). Zum Verlauf der Dekeleia-Paß-Route vgl. auch Munn (1983) 107-110. Curtius (1868) Karte VII 4; Milchhoefer (1895) 4; McCredie (1966) 57f.; Ober (1985) 142-144; Ober (1987) 203f.; Mersch (1996) 19. Ober (1985)

144f.; Ober (1987) 204f.

Zum Verlauf dieses Weges vgl. auch die hier als Anlage Umgebung von Dekeleia) aus Curtius (1968).

1 beigegebene

Karte

VII 3 (Die

Zur verkehrstechnischen Bedeutung des Katiphori-Passes vgl. erwa Milchhoefer (1889) Milchhoefer (1895) 1-5; Philippson (1952) 784f. Vgl. Milchhoefer (1900) 26f.

57;

Hat. 9,15,1. Zur Lokalisierung von Sphendale vgl. Milchhoefer (1900) 27. Milchhoefer (1889) 55.

Pfister (1951). Herakleides

1,6.

Pfister (1951) 31.34f.

Wenn Herakleides 1,6 schon diesen Weg als steil und schwierig (prosonta) empfand, um wieviel beschwerlicher mußte dann den antiken Reisenden die Paßstraße über Tatoi erschienen sein, die fast doppelt soviele Höhenrneter auf einer noch weitaus steileren Wegführung zu überwinden hatte. Westlake (1948) 4 m. Anm. So auch schon

Chandler

1.

(1926)

16; vgl. auch

Classen-Steup

(1908)

43; Dover

(1970)

395;

dagegen zuletzt wieder Munn (1983) 158, Anm. 43. Milchhoefer (1895) 5. Thuc. 7,19,1-2; Diod. 13,9,2. Thuc. 6,91,6-7; 7,18,1. Thuc. 7,19,2. Vgl. Thuc. 7,27,3-28,4; 428-449.

8,5,3;

8,69,1;

8,71,1-3;

Xen.

Hell.

1,1,33-35;

Hell.

Oxy.

20,34,

Strabon 9,1,20. Hdt. 5,62; vgl. auch Ar. Lys. 665 m. Schol.; Arist. Ath. Pol. 19,3; Ath. 15, 695e. -- Die genaue Lage ist bis heute nicht sicher zu bestimmen; vgl. aber hierzu die Überlegungen bei Milchhoefer (1895) 7; McCredie (1966) 58-61.

The Frontier between Arkadia and Elis

in Classical Antiquity’ JAMES ROY

It is a great pleasure to contribute to this volume in honour of Mogens Hansen, as it has been to collaborate with him and his team at the Copenhagen Polis Centre.

The

work which

I have

done with the Polis Centre

has been

on

Arkadia and on Elis, separately, and has revealed that the interaction of these

two regions along their common frontier needs comment. Some thoughts on the subject are therefore offered here, in a spirit of congratulation to Mogens.

I. Geography and regional interaction The physical geography of the region did not separate sharply Arkadia from Elis. Mt. Erymanthos in northwestern Arkadia, rising as it does to 2221 metres, is a formidable obstacle, continuing to the southwest in such associated ranges as Mt. Lampeia, but farther south communications between Arkadia and Elis

are easier. Mt. Pholoe, which is an irregular plateau rather than a mountain range, could be crossed without great difficulty, which explains the strategic

importance of Lasion, situated on the eastern side of Mt. Pholoe towards the valley of the R. Erymanthos. More fairly easy routes connected Arkadia and Elis north and south of the R. Alpheios, the more southerly of these routes

crossing northern Triphylia. In central and eastern Triphylia Mt. Minthe divided north from south, but there was again access from Arkadia to Elis south of Mt. Minthe across Arkadian Phigaleia and southern Triphylia. Thus, despite some obstacles, especially Mt. Erymanthos in the north, most of the

border between Arkadia and Elis is not sharply defined by natural features. Though there is little mention of it in surviving evidence, there must have

been regular traffic between the two areas. Kyllene and Pheia, the two Eleian ports, were the only convenient harbours for western Arkadia, unless Phigaleia had some

limited facilities of its own.’

If there was

significant long-range

transhumance of Arkadian flocks to lowland winter pastures outside Arkadia,’ some of these flocks wil! have descended

to Elis. The sanctuary of Zeus at

Olympia certainly attracted Arkadians from the Archaic period onwards.‘

134

JAMES ROY

THE FRONTIER BETWEEN ARKADIA AND ELIS

135

Though the trade is not attested, it is likely that salt from coastal salt-pans in

Elis was transported to western Arkadia. These are simply the more obvious forms which traffic between Arkadia and Elis will have taken, and there were no doubt yet others. The background to the sometimes tense and unhappy

interaction along the frontier must have been a constant and usually peaceful interchange.

Relations between Arkadia and Elis of course also encompassed political vicissitudes, including wars. Besides such supposed early conflicts as that between Pylians and Arkadians mentioned by Homer Jitad 7.133-136 and the

war in which the baby-cum-snake Sosipolis reputedly helped the Eleians to victory (Paus.

6.20.2-6),

there was a major conflict between

the Arkadian

confederation and Elis in 365-362,’ and other such wars as that between Lepreon and unnamed Arkadians in the fifth century (Thuc. 5.31.2) or that in which in the third century the Aitolian Polysperchon used Samikon (Samia)

as a base against the Arkadians (Paus. 5.6.1). In addition ca. 400 Arkadians, like Achaians, joined enthusiastically in the Spartan king Agis’ invasion of Elis because it offered an excellent opportunity for looting (Xen. Hell. 3.2.26). On the other hand Elis on occasion allied with Arkadians, notably in 420 with Mantinea

(and

Argos

and

Athens),°

and

in 370

with

the Arkadian

con-

federation (and Argos, and later other states).’ Moreover, as so often in Greek

states,

exiles

or politically

disaffected

elements

found

sympathy

in the

neighbouring region. During the war which broke out in 365 between Arkadia

and Elis there appear to have been Arkadian exiles in Elis who joined the Eleians in an attack on Lasion,® while Eleian democrats remained friendly to the Arkadian confederation

(Xen. Hell. 7.4.16-18). There are also stories of

internal political divisions corresponding to relations between the neighbouring states,

such

as Polyainos’

account

of Eleian

hostility to a leading

Eleian

political figure called Xenias because he was pro-Arkadian.’ However, before

considering how relations friendly or unfriendly between the two regions affected their shared frontier it is necessary to consider the frontier itself.

U. Local and regional identities

A frontier could emerge between Arkadia and Elis only once these two areas had each developed a regional identity. Nielsen has shown that most, if not all, of the area regarded as Arkadian in the Classical period was already seen as

Arkadian by the later sixth century, though the borders of Arkadia were far

from fixed, and especially that with Elis.'° There might be some doubt as to whether the northwestern part of the region already shared this Arkadian

136

JAMES ROY

identity in the Archaic period, since the only relevant evidence from the period

is a fragment of Hekataios the interpretation of which is not beyond doubt;!! but, if not already considered Arkadian in the Archaic period, the northwestern communities acquired an Arkadian identity in the Classical period.'? There is

however no reason to believe that any Arkadian confederation came into being

before 370,'’ and the confederation which was created in 370 had by 362 split into two groups and was probably never reunited, though a rump

of the

confederation, or even two such groups, may have continued to exist for some time.'* Nonetheless, though Arkadian political unity existed only briefly, that the Arkadians’ ethnic identity continued to exist is clearly shown, for instance,

by the account of Arkadia in Pausanias’ eighth book. The development of Elis into a single region was however later and more

complicated.’ The Eleians, whose original home was in the northern part of the area that eventually became Elis, embarked on a programme of expansion in the Archaic period, a programme which was well under way when in the sixth century they secured control of the sanctuary of Zeus at Olympia. Some ‚areas which came under Eleian domination, such as Pisatis around Olympia, were directly incorporated into the Eleian state, but most became subordinate allies (at least from

ca. 500

onwards).

By the later fifth century

Elis had

established its domination over the area from Achaia in the north to Messenia in the south, and from the sea in the west to Arkadia in the east, and the name

Eleia was coming into use for the region.'* Defeat in a war against Sparta ca. 400 however forced Elis to surrender control of its subordinate allies. While by the late 360s Elis had had some considerable success in regaining control of

subordinate allies north of the R. Alpheios, it did not recover Triphylia until the middle of the third century, and it then lost it again to Philip V in 219. Elis

then finally recovered Triphylia probably in 146, and the whole area of Elis was then incorporated into the Eleian state. A tendency to see the whole region as Eleia is apparent from the fifth century, but it is clear that many inhabitants of the region did not consider themselves Eleian until in 146 the whole region was united within the Eleian state, and indeed even then - as will be seen — some continued to prefer a different ethnic identity. Consequently for most of the Classical and Hellenistic periods the frontier

between Arkadia and Elis divided not two unitary states holding consolidated blocks

of territory but rather

a range

of communities,

each

with

its own

territory, even if some of these communities sometimes adhered to an Arkadian confederation or fell into subordinate other groupings,

such

alliance to Elis. (There were also yet

as the “tribal” or sub-regional groups

like the Kyn-

ourians in Arkadia, and the confederation formed by the Triphylians soon after 400.) The basic communities, whether free-standing or associated with a wider

THE

FRONTIER BETWEEN

ARKADIA

AND

ELIS

137

group, were poleis (city-states). Nielsen has recently shown that the polis as an institution

was

already

well-established

in Arkadia

before

the end

of the

Archaic period,'’ and in the Classical period poleis are well-attested in Ar-

kadia.'® Moreover Nielsen argues that the polis was implanted in Arkadia also in the areas which had a subregional identity, such as Kynouria, and that such

poleis are attested from the first half of the fifth century.'” Elis was a city-state at least by the sixth century.” The subordinate allies of Elis were also citystates," and, as noted above, several of these city-states on what might for convenience

be labelled the Eleian side of the frontier were, for considerable

periods, not directly attached to the Eleian state. Two consequences follow from the situation just described. Firstly, since an

Arkadian ethnic identity existed by the sixth century (even if northwestern Arkadia was possibly not included in it until the Classical period), it would be

possible to speak of a frontier from the Arkadian point of view at least from the sixth century. Such a frontier would admittedly not be precisely defined: it might mark the edge of the area of Arkadian ethnic identity, but it is likely that

Arkadian identity was thought of not as stopping abruptly at a geographical limit, but rather as having the potential to extend farther into communities which had, or might have, affinity with Arkadians. On the other side, however,

the lack of a unifying regional identity until the concept of Eleia began to gain ground in the later fifth century means that in the sixth century and in most of the fifth there could be no Eleian frontier along the length of the western

Arkadian frontier, and it was much later before an Eleian identity predominated in the entire region. There was therefore an Eleian frontier only insofar as the Eleians had succeeded in grouping together the territory of their own state and the territories of subordinate allies, mainly north of the R. Alpheios until around

the middle

of the fifth century Elis extended

its domination

farther south. South of the R. Alpheios the Arkadians will have had a loose

frontier towards a variety of different communities until about the middle of the fifth century these communities were united under Eleian domination, to which

succeeded

ca. 400

the Triphylian

identity and

the Triphylian

con-

federation which the communities created for themselves, followed in turn in the third century by a more fluid situation. The second consequence will have been that, because the frontier did not run between two unitary states, change

in the frontier area was likely to occur when one or more city-states, voluntanly or involuntarily, changed their adherence or their ethnic identity.

138

JAMES ROY

III. Examples of change It is easy to show that such changes did occur along the frontier, since several

cases are attested, or suggested, of poleis changing their perceived identity: 1.

Heraia. An inscription (100 9, frequently republished) records a treaty

of ca. 500 between the Eleians (the dominant partners in the alliance) and

another

community

called

either

Erwaotot

(i.e.

Heraians)

or

Euwaoioi (from Eua).” If the text refers to Heraia in Arkadia, which is far from certain, then Heraia appears to have been around 500 a subordinate ally of Elis. 2.

Phrixa was described by Pherekydes (FGrHist 3) fr. 161 as Arkadian, presumably

Minyan

referring

to

his

own

day.

Herodotos

described

(Hdt. 4.148), and it was subsequently Triphylian

it as

(Polyb.

4.77.9).24 3.

Epeton was bought by the Eleians for 30 talents from “those who then

held it” at some time before the Spartan-Eleian war of ca. 400 (Xen. Hell. 3.2.30-31): the phrase cited is not a natural description of the normal

inhabitants of Epeion,

and

it has been

suggested

that Elis

bought Epeion from Arkadians who had conquered it. The suggestion is plausible, but the wording would in that case mean that

Epeion was controlled by Arkadians but remained non-Arkadian.” Herodotos had described it as Minyan

(4.148), and it was later Tri-

phylian (Polyb. 4.77.9). 4.

Lasion

in ca.

400,

when

a subordinate

perioikic

ally of Elis, was

claimed by (not more precisely identified) Arkadians (Xen. Hell. 3.2.

30): since there was no Arkadian confederation at the time,”

and

since, if Lasion was claimed by a particular Arkadian city-state like Psophis or Thelpousa, Xenophon would have had no reason not to say so directly, the phrase presumably means that some Arkadians claimed

that Lasion shared their Arkadian ethnic identity.” After the creation of an Arkadian confederation in 370 Lasion itself claimed to be Arkadian and joined the confederation (Xen. Hell. 7.1.26). It was cap-

tured by Elis, or Arkadian exiles collaborating with Elis, in 365/4 but

quickly recaptured by the Arkadians.”” It was a (probably subordinate) ally of Elis in 219.*° 5.

Alipheira was originally part of the Kynourian tribe in Arkadia (Paus. 8.27.4), and then incorporated in Megalopolis.

It was given to the

THE FRONTIER BETWEEN

ARKADIA AND ELIS

139

Eleians by Lydiades, tyrant of Megalopolis, probably ca. 244. It was then captured by Philip V in 219 (Polyb. 4.78). Philip may have restored it to Megalopolis (Livy 32.5.4-5, cf. 28.8.6: if this happened, the likely date is 199), or it may have been freed by a certain Kleonymos, mentioned in an inscription: in any case the limited surviving evidence consistently shows Alipheira as independent in the years after

199.7

In recording that Lydiades ceded Alipheira to Elis Polybios

(4.78) claims that Alipheira was from the beginning subject to Arkadia and to Megalopolis; and Pausanias also evidently considered it Arkadian (8.26.5-7). An inscription found at Alipheira (JPArk 25), though incomplete and partly illegible, apparently records either a settlement of disagreement within Alipheira or an arbitration between Alipheira and another community. Because the inscription is in Eleian dialect it is likely that the text is Eleian, and that Elis intervened in some way to settle whatever problem had arisen, during the period when

it controlled Ali-

pheira.* Alipheira was clearly not an independent polis when Lydiades ceded it to Elis, and before the cession it may have been a dependent polis

within Megalopolis:* Polybios in recording its transfer to Elis refers to

it as a polis.” After its capture by Philip V Alipheira was regarded in subsequent negotiations as an item to be dealt with in its own right (Livy 28.8.6, 32.5.4-5). It subsequently functioned as an independent

polis, striking coinage as a member of the Achaian League.” It must have been possible at the time of its transfer from Megalopolis to Elis to define the Alipheiran territory which was to be handed over, and certainly at a later date as an independent polis it must have had its own

territory: a surviving inscription

apparently shows a

territorial

dispute between Alipheira and Lepreon.”’ Psophis was normally considered Arkadian, at least from the Classical period, but was attached to Elis in 219 (Polyb. 4.70.2-72.10). Polybios describes

the association

of Psophis

with

Elis by using the words

politeuesthai meta: the words, even if their meaning is not entirely clear, suggest that Psophis’ relationship with Elis was both closer and less even than that of one equally-matched ally with another, and indeed that Psophis was a subordinate ally of Elis as the penoikic communities

of Elis were.” In reporting Psophis’ relationship with Elis Polybios himself insists that Psophis was Arkadian.” The

area of Triphylia attached itself to the Arkadian

confederation

140

JAMES ROY

formed in 370, thereby causing the largest single recorded shift in the Arkado-Eleian frontier area. The relationship of Triphylia, and of particular Triphylian communities like Lepreon and Makiston, to Arkadia is complex and enduring, and will be discussed further below: here only a brief survey is offered. Until the end of the fifth century there had been no sense of identity uniting all the various communities between the R. Alpheios and the R. Neda, but the creation of a Triphylian identity and of a Triphylian federal state ca. 400 was followed within a generation or so by Triphylia’s becoming Arkadian, as was recognised — and advertised — by the presence of Triphylos as one of

the sons of Arkas on the Arkadian monument dedicated at Delphi in 369. Elis had regained control of the Triphylian communities about the middle of the third century (Polyb. 4.77.10), but lost them again

to Philip V in 219 (Polyb. 4.77.5-80.15), and did not regain them until 146, when Triphylia, like the other perioikic areas of Elis, was fully

integrated into the Eleian state.*!

IV. A frontier defined by polıs-territories Such changes show that, although - as will be seen - the frontier was also

conceived in wider regional terms, it was in effect made up of a series of frontiers involving the territories of different city-states, and changed when a city-state changed its regional identity. Alipheira is slightly anomalous, since - as noted above - it was clearly not an independent city-state when Lydiades gave it to Elis, but nonetheless it was a readily identifiable community which could be separated from the rest of Megalopolitan territory and could function as a subordinate community under Elis. Indeed, as noted above, once freed from Elis and Philip V, it did then function as an independent polts. Therefore, even

though

Alipheira

was

not an independent polis when

it passed

from

Megalopolis to Elis, it fits well enough into the general pattern of a frontier made up of a mosaic of city-states. The one truly anomalous case is that of

Triphylia’s adhesion to the Arkadian confederation set up in 370. As said, states south of the R. Alpheios which had not previously had a single common identity, had created for themselves ca. 400 a new Triphylian identity but had

gone on to acquire also an Arkadian identity. Their adhesion to the Arkadian confederation

meant

that a whole

block

of poleis adopted

a new

regional

identity, and radically altered the western frontier of Arkadia. Unfortunately

we do not know whether the Triphylians joined the confederation as a single group (as e.g. the several communities of the Arkadian Mainalians evidently

THE

FRONTIER

BETWEEN

ARKADIA AND ELIS

141

did) or separately as individual communities; and we know almost nothing of the history of the Triphylian communities from the 360s until Elis regained control of them around the middle of the third century, by which time the

Triphylians had certainly reverted to being a number of separate poleis.? Since the frontier was in effect a series of polis-frontiers, it also follows that

a boundary dispute between neighbours on either side of the regional frontier could cause some territory to move from one region to another. An inscription appears to record the settlement of just such a dispute, namely that already noted between Alipheira and Lepreon, though the settlement may possibly belong to the period when both were dominated by Elis or the following period when both were controlled by Philip V. Such shifts of territory would however be limited in scope, and there is no reason to think that they changed the

frontier radically.* It is somewhat more difficult to be sure of the precise importance of the report by Pausanias that an Eleian called Pyttalos, who had won the boys’ boxing at the Olympic Games, gave judgment when a dispute arose between Arkadians and Eleians over boundaries (Paus. 6.16.8). Pyttalos is dated mainly by the fact that Pausanias saw at Olympia a statue of him by

the sculptor Sthennis of Olynthos, but what is known of Sthennis’ career would allow us to date Pyttalos at any time in a fairly long period running from the later fourth century to the earlier third.“ At that period we have no reason to suppose that there was an Arkadian confederation with a frontier towards Elis, and it is better to suppose that the dispute, about which Pausanias presumably learnt from an Eleian informant at Olympia, concerned the frontier of some

particular Arkadian polts or poleis rather than the frontier of a unified Arkadia. In that case Pausanias’ wording illustrates a tendency to see the frontier in

regional terms rather than in terms of the individual poleis whose successive boundaries in fact made up the frontier.

V. An ethnically defined frontier The tendency to see the frontier in terms of ethnically defined regions is clear in both Strabo and Pausanias. When describing Arkadia in its own right, Strabo

(8.8.1) does not define its frontiers, but when

giving an account of

eastern Elis he says (8.3.32) that all Pisatis and most of Triphylia have a common frontier with Arkadia. It is typical of Strabo that he relates the frontier to interpreting Homer: because of the line of the frontier there is, he says, an impression that all the places described as Pylian in the Catalogue are Arkadian, but competent

people recognise that the frontier is at the R. Erymanthos.

There appears to have been some disagreement among Strabo’s sources, since

142

JAMES ROY

elsewhere

he

says

three

times

that Mt.

Pholoe,

which

is west

of the

R.

Erymanthos, was Arkadian,* but, regardless of any confusion, Strabo clearly

conceived the frontier as being between the two regions Elis and Arkadia. Pausanias also offers differing accounts of the frontier: at 6.21.3-5 he says that the frontier between Arkadia and Elis was originally the frontier between Arkadia and Pisa and was marked by rwo tributaries of the R. Alpheios, the R.

Diagon which joined the Alpheios from the south and the R. Leukyanias which joined it from the north, whereas at 8.26.3-4 he says that the Arkadians believed the frontier to be the R. Erymanthos (which is east of the Leukyanias) while the Eleians believed it to be at the tomb of the Eleian athlete Koroibos,

first winner at the Olympic Games after their refoundation by Iphitos.“ Like Strabo, Pausanias also sees the frontier - whatever uncertainty he may show about its detailed course — as separating the two regions of Arkadia and Elis. The tendency to think in these regional terms was however much older than

Strabo and Pausanias. It can be seen in such Homeric passages as the report

of the battles between the Arkadians and the Pylians (Iliad 7.133-136),” though

that report obviously refers to a period before the conception of a

regional Eleian frontier had developed. The appearance from the fifth century of the term Eleia to refer to an area stretching as far south as the R. Neda also clearly shows thinking in regional terms.“ The same pattern of thinking is seen in Ps.-Skylax 44 (to choose one example from among others), writing of Elis and

Arkadia,

with

the fourth-century

modification

that Triphylia,

and

in

particular Lepreon, are attributed to Arkadia.“ The tendency to think in terms of ethnic regions did not however necessarily mean that the frontier was considered to be fixed, as is clear from comments of Polybios. Psophis, he wrote (4.70.3), is agreed to be an ancient Arkadian foundation; but his claim was clearly intended to counter another claim, which he does not put into words, that Psophis was Eleian, for at the time - as dis-

cussed above - Psophis was an ally, and most probably a subordinate ally, of Elis. Likewise

when

he wrote

(4.77.10)

that Alipheira

had

“from

the be-

ginning” belonged to Arkadia and Megalopolis, the context was that Alipheira

was held by the Eleians, to whom the tyrant Lydiades of Megalopolis had given it: again Polybios’ claim can be taken as intended to counter a claim that Alipheira was Eleian. A little earlier in the sarne passage (4.77.8) Polybios, in introducing a report on Triphylia in 219, said that the region derived its name from Triphylos son of Arkas: the reference to the eponymous ancestor of the Arkadians made the implicit claim that Triphylia was Arkadian, but the hi-

storical context was that the Eleians had regained control of the Triphylian cities. In all three cases Polybios’ is clearly thinking in regional terms, opposing Elis and Arkadia and supposing that each had a traditionally defined area, but

THE FRONTIER BETWEEN

ARKADIA AND ELIS

143

in all three cases what Polybios claimed as Arkadian was in fact held by Elis

because the frontier changed over time. Polybios could, and probably would, have argued that what he saw as traditionally Arkadian communities, even if temporarily held by Elis, lay on the Arkadian side of the proper division be-

tween Elis and Arkadia: but he clearly had a very Arkadian view of the regional division. Eleians no doubt had their own view of the division: there may be a trace of

the Eleian view in Pausanias’ report of the grave of Koroibos (8.26.3). Whereas the Arkadians, Pausanias says, believed that the R. Erymanthos was the frontier between Arkadia and Elis, the Eleians believed that the tomb of Koroibos marked the frontier. An inscription on the monument said that Koroibos was

the first victor at Olympia, and that his tomb lay at the limit of Eleian territory. In his account of Olympia Pausanias (5.8.5-6) notes that Koroibos, an Eleian

athlete, won the foot-race, the only contest, at the first Olympic Games after they were refounded

by Iphitos, and that, although there was no statue of

Koroibos at Olympia, his tomb lay at the borders of Elis. We can safely dismiss the possibility that the monument of Koroibos, situated so far east and with an

inscription that could be meaningful only after the Eleians had taken control of Pisatis, was erected in the eighth century; but at what date it was set up it is impossible

to know,

though

it evidently

survived

until Pausanias’

day.

Nonetheless it was clearly set up as an expression of an Eleian claim to territory

in the direction of the R. Erymanthos.” Such claims were not mere rhetoric, but produced both changes in the frontier and shifts in ethnic identity. Lasion offers an example: ca. 400 it was one of the perioikic communities, subordinate to Elis, on whose liberation by

Elis Sparta insisted at the end of the Spartan-Eleian war, but it was being claimed by (unspecified) Arkadians (Xen. Hell. 3.2.30).*' As argued above, since there was no Arkadian confederation at the time, the claim was presumably that Lasion was an Arkadian community.

No

evidence survives to

suggest that Lasion had previously been considered Arkadian and the wording

of Xen. Hell. 3.2.30 suggests that he did not consider it Arkadian in ca. 400, but it did indeed become Arkadian before very long, joining the Arkadian confederation which had been founded in 370 (Xen. Hell. 7.1.26). Lasion was

then captured by Elis, or Arkadian exiles collaborating with Elis, in 365/4 but quickly recaptured by the Arkadians; but it was a (probably subordinate) ally

of Elis in 219.72 Lasion’s movement from association with Elis ca. 400 to Arkadian status in the 360s was no doubt connected with a desire to be free of Eleian domination, and it is pointless to consider whether the shift of ethnic identity was motivated by political aims or vice versa: choice of ethnic identity and political desires doubtless went hand in hand. The claim on Lasion by

144

JAMES ROY

Arkadians ca. 400 can be explained as an expression of willingness by at least some Arkadians to see Lasion share their ethnic identity, and would be easiest

to understand if there were already signs that the citizens of Lasion might wish to adopt an Arkadian identity. The shift in the Arkado-Eleian frontier brought about by Lasion’s change of allegiance ca. 369 was probably the outcome of developments over a generation or more.

VI. Limits to change Not all political shifts could be accommodated by a change of ethnic identity and an adjustment of the frontier, as is shown by the case of Pisatis. When the Eleians acquired control of Pisatis, they incorporated it into their own Eieian

state rather than according it the status of subordinate ally to which they

reduced other perioikic communities.” In the Arkadian-Eleian war which broke out in 365 the Arkadians detached Pisatis from Elis but did not claim it as Arkadian, instead elevating it to the status of an independent state, albeit in

effect a puppet state serving the purposes of the Arkadian confederation and allied to the Arkadians. (Akroreia, previously a perioikic area of Elis, was similarly detached and elevated to independent status, and, like Pisatis, became an ally of the Arkadian

confederation.)

Arkadia

and

Pisatis were

linked

mythologically by the belief that Pisos married Olympia daughter of Arkas:”° it is not known when belief in this particular mythological relationship arose, but the most probabie setting is the period 365-362 when Pisatis was an independent state allied to Arkadia. If the mythological link was established in 365-362, then the Arkadians accepted a mythological link between Arkadia

and its nominally independent ally Pisatis, but did not recognise the Pisatans as Arkadians. The reason was no doubt the traditional and universally known association of Pisatis with the sanctuary at Olympia, which would have made

it difficult for the Pisatans to assume an Arkadian identity.”

VII. The case of Triphylia However,

by far the best-attested

case and

the most

interesting is that of

Triphylia, and particularly of the Triphylian community Lepreon.’’ In the later fifth century there was no common

identity uniting the various communities

in the area between the R. Alpheios and the R. Neda, west of Arkadia: we do

not hear of Triphylia and Triphylians until ca. 400. At a date presumably between the middle of the fifth century (cf. Hdt. 4.148) and the beginning of

THE FRONTIER BETWEEN ARKADIA AND ELIS

145

the Peloponnesian War Lepreon sought Eleian alliance because it was at war with “some Arkadians”, and even ceded half its territory to Elis to secure the

alliance. It is not clear which Arkadians threatened Lepreon, since Thucydides

does not identify them more closely,” but Lepreon was clearly at the time hostile to at least some Arkadians and preferred Eleian alliance to any help that it might

have

got from

Arkadia.

By ca. 369

the attitude of Lepreon

had

changed radically, and all Triphylia jomed the new Arkadian confederation. That Triphylian adhesion to the confederation was not merely a convenient alliance but involved the assumption of an Arkadian identity is shown by the presence of Triphylos son of Arkas on the Arkadian monument set up at Del-

phi (CEG II 824.7). The active participation of Lepreon in the confederation is shown by the facts that in 367 a Lepreate was chosen as Arkadian federal ambassador, and that, in a list of Arkadian federal damiorgoi appended to a

federal decree, damiorgoi are listed from Lepreon rather than from Triphylia.“ Lack of evidence then makes

it virtually impossible to follow the history of

Triphylia in any detail until the mid-third century, when Elis regained control of the area: though Elis then lost the Triphylian communities to Philip V in 219, it finally regained them in 146 and at last incorporated them fully in the Eleian state. Despite belonging to Elis, however, the Lepreates retained a sense

of Arkadian identity. Though Triphylia did not formally acquire an Arkadian identity until it joined the Arkadian confederation, it is possible that that identity began to develop already in the fifth century.” Phrixa, one of the communities in the area, had

been

considered

Arkadian

by

Pherekydes

(FGrHist

3)

fr.

161.

Makisteus, no doubt the eponym of Makiston, appears in the list of sons of

Lykaon given by Pseudo-Apollodoros 3.8, and Lykaon is a key figure in the Arkadians’

view

of their origins.

In addition,

in the

early fourth

century

elements of the sculptural decoration of the temple excavated at Makiston may

have been intended to show sympathy for Arkadia.” Once Lepreon in particular had assumed an Arkadian identity, that identity

endured.” In Pausanias’ day, though by then Eleian for three centuries, the Lepreates still wanted to be Arkadian (Paus. 5.5.3). Pausanias, while recording the feelings of the Lepreates, wrote that they appeared to have been from the

beginning subject to the Eleians; it follows therefore that he did not deduce the Lepreates’ desire to be Arkadian from their history, and so he must have learnt of it directly from the Lepreates themselves, and his testimony is the more valuable as a result. The Lepreates’ desire for Arkadian identity may have been

encouraged by a desire on the part of other Arkadians to see Triphylia again Arkadian: Strabo (8.3.3) says that the Arkadians had often claimed Triphylia.™ In addition

the Lepreates

told Pausanias

(5.5.5-6)

that there had been

in

146

JAMES ROY

Lepreon the tomb of Lykourgos son of Aleos, but Pausanias saw no tomb of distinction at Lepreon: since Lykourgos appears in the Arkadian myth of origin as reported by Pausanias, the Lepreates’ claim — even if they could not substantiate it - was presumably another attempt to assert a link with Arkadia.™ The

Lepreates also claimed another link with Arkadia by telling Pausanias

(5.5.4) that their eponym Lepreos son of Pyrgeus was buried at Phigaleia (in Arkadia), but this claim too remained unsubstantiated since the Phigaleians

could not show Pausanias the tomb.” There

are numerous

traces of the links between

Arkadia

and Triphylıa.

Since Pausanias says (5.6.3) that the Arkadians were agreed that the ancient name of the R. Anigros in Triphylia was Minyeios, he had evidently thought it appropriate to consult Arkadian opinion on the name of a Triphylian river. In its north-south orientation the temple at Prasidaki near Lepreon is similar

to several Arkadian temples: the temple in question had replaced an older, Archaic,

temple

at the same

site, and

is most probably,

in the opinion

of

Yalouris, to be dated to the late Classical period, in which case it may well

have been built to an Arkadian pattern while Lepreon and Triphylia formed part of Arkadia.

The

most

striking link, however,

between

Arkadia

and

Tniphylia is the cult of Artemis Heleia at Alorion, since the priests for the cult

were provided by the Arkadians.° It is not known when the practice of providing Arkadian priests arose, though the period during which Triphylia formed part of Arkadia is the most likely, in which case the practice evidently

endured after Elis regained control of Triphylia. Triphylia became

Arkadian,

it would

provide

If the practice began before further evidence

of the early

development of a sense of Arkadian identity in Triphylia; while, in the less

likely event that it began after Triphylia had been separated from Arkadia, it would show how the links between Arkadia and Triphylia endured even then.

VIII. The cult of Sosipolis: memorialising tension A further excellent example of how religion was applied to relations across the Arkado-Eleian

frontier

is provided

by the Eleian

cult,

or rather cults,

of

Sosipolis, for which the evidence comes in Pausanias 6.20.2-6 & 25.4. According to the legend, during an Arkadian invasion of Elis the Eleians were saved by the Eleian baby Sosipolis (“saviour of the city”), who was transformed

from baby to snake and so frightened the Arkadians that the Eleians won a

famous victory.”’ A cult of Sosipolis was created, and celebrated both at Olympia, where the transformation and the battle reputedly took place, and at the town

of Elis. On

the most important

issues in Elis an oath was

sworn by

THE FRONTIER BETWEEN

ARKADIA AND ELIS

147

Sosipolis. In addition, just outside the sanctuary at Olympia on the hill to west of the R. Kladeos was to be seen the monument of the Arkadians killed in the

battle involving Sosipolis.”’ In effect, through the cult of Sosipolis the Eleians institutionalised tension between themselves and the Arkadians. At the heart

of the Sosipolis legend lay conflict between Eleians and Arkadians, and of course Eleian victory. The

conflict was memorialised

by the sanctuaries of

Sosipolis at Olympia and at Elis, and also by the monument of the Arkadian war-dead, and recalled by the ritual at the sanctuaries.

IX. Conclusions

In conclusion the following points can be made

about the Arkado-Eleian

frontier. In the Classical and Hellenistic periods there was a frontier area which can be approximately defined by the communities which are known to have changed sides. North of the Alpheios Psophis, Lasion, and possibly Heraia

were affected, while south of the Alpheios Phrixa, Epeion,

and Alipheira

shifted allegiance, but the adoption of an Arkadian identity by all Triphylia in

the fourth century meant that Triphylia itself became in effect a frontier zone. The frontier zone did not extend far eastwards into Arkadia: no communities farther east than Psophis

and Alipheira are known

to have

changed

sides.

Likewise the zone did not extend deep westwards into Eleian territory, if one excepts Triphylia from the fourth century onwards: it is notable that, although Pisatis and Akroreia became independent states and allies of Arkadia during the Arkadian-Eleian war of 365-362, neither became Arkadian. It appears that by the fifth century there was a recognisably Arkadian region to the east and an Eleian region, including both Eleian and perioikic territory, to the west, with between them a relatively restricted zone within which shifts of allegiance or ethnic identity occurred; and then, in the fourth century, the area of possible change was greatly enlarged when the ethnic identity of the Triphylians was

brought into question. Within the frontier zone the unit of change by the fifth century was the pois: the frontier changed

when

a polis moved

from

one side to the other. The

change in status of Alipheira in the third century is no real exception to this pattern,

since Alipheira,

even

if not

an independent

polis, was

capable

of

functioning as one. An apparently major exception, however, was the shift in

identity of all Triphylia to Arkadia in the fourth century, and again in the midthird century all the Triphylian communities appear to have been brought back under Eleian control more or less at the same time, though by 219 the polets of

Triphylia were certainly no longer acting as a group.’ Even Triphylia, how-

148

JAMES ROY

ever, was a block of polis-territories when united, and the unit of change when

Triphylia shifted its ethnic allegiance could be seen as being still the polis and its territory. There were no doubt also smaller shifts of territory as a result of boundary disputes between poleis in the frontier zone, but they were probably

not significant. Shifts along the frontier were not a matter of gradual erosion of territory but of transfers of well-defined areas, defined by the poleis which possessed them. In some cases a change of allegiance was forced, as when Alipheira was given to Elis by a tyrant of Megalopolis, and no doubt also when Epeion first fell

under the control of people other than its own inhabitants and then was sold to the Eleians. In other cases, as for instance when Phrixa ceased to be Arkadian, evidence of how the change came about is lacking. But in many cases the change was voluntary, matching the desires of the community concerned, and probably being encouraged by sympathy from existing members of the ethnic group which the community would join: Lasion appears to have had sympathy from some Arkadians before it became Arkadian, and there may have been Arkadian support for Triphylia’s adoption of an Arkadian identity. The volun-

tary shift in identity could be considerable: in the fifth century Lepreon was so threatened by a war against Arkadians that it surrendered half its territory to Elis in order to secure Eleian help, but by ca. 369 it had become Arkadian. The sentiments which could inspire voluntary change were not of course always strong enough to secure it. It seems clear that a desire to be Arkadian

lingered in Lepreon long after there was any chance of making the change. There could be external factors preventing change, such as effective Eleian contro! of Lepreon from

146, and no doubt there were also internal factors,

though we hear nothing of them: it is extremely unlikely that the communities

which changed sides voluntarily were always internally unanimous

in their

desire for change. Unfulfilled desire for change would generate tension in the

frontier zone, extending no doubt to sympathisers of the community concerned; and fear of change on the part of those who did not wish it would also contribute to tension.

The Arkadian-Eleian frontier zone with its changes over time was not of

course unique in the Greek world.” Apart from shifts in other Arkadian frontiers already noted, one could point to such other examples -- among many — as Oropos, clearly marked by its marginal position among Attika, Boiotia,

and Euboia,’* or communities of East Lokris which in the Hellenistic period were occasionally Boiotian.” Yet, while other cases when analysed in detail

may prove illuminating, the Arkadian-Eleian frontier zone has the interest of showing a striking number of attested changes, in both directions, over a long period.

THE FRONTIER BETWEEN ARKADIA AND ELIS

149

These changes are related both to the development and ongoing evolution

of ethnic identity in western Arkadia and Elis, not to mention Triphylia, and to political issues affecting communities

in the frontier zone. While forced

changes in the frontier, as when Epeion quite involuntarily was transferred by sale from one external control to another or when Alipheira was handed over by Lydiades of Megalopolis to the Eleians, were presumably purely political, voluntary changes would involve a shift in ethnic identity. Choice of ethnic identity by communities in the Arkadian-Eleian frontier zone was no doubt due

to a variety of motives most of which are difficult or impossible to discern in the available evidence, but awareness of current political issues must have been a major factor. For communities which saw the expansionist policy of Elis as

a threat,’ for instance, association with other like-minded communities within the area of Eleian ambitions might be desirable, as might be association with

the Arkadians who lay outside Eleian influence; and entry into such an association could be matched by a changed sentiment of ethnic idennty. And each shift along the frontier must have served as a reminder - if one was needed — both that there were different ethnic identities in the region and that

individual communities could shift from one identity to another. Political pressures

and the evolution of ethnic identities must

have

interacted; and

indeed it might be argued that the potential to form and change ethnic identity seen in the Arkadian-Eleian frontier zone could not have occurred as it did if

the area had not had its political pattern which, potentially at least, allowed individual communities the choice of retaining individual autonomy, joining a sub-regional group like the Kynourians or the Triphylians, or associating with

the Eleian state or the wide-ranging Arkadian ethnic identity. Yet the political frontier and the ethnic frontier did not always coincide. It is quite clear that Polybios, in writing about events in the frontier area in 219,

had a sense of what was Arkadian that did not match the actual political division between

Elis and Arkadia:

Triphylia,

for Polybios were Arkadian.

which

Elis controlled Psophis, Alipheira, and Nor were changes

in ethnic

identity mere political opportunism. Triphylia may well have adopted an Arkadian identity ca. 369 because it felt threatened by Elis, but there are signs that a sense of Arkadian identity was developing in Triphylia long before 369.

When

in the Arkadian-Eleian war which broke out in 365 the Arkadians

detached both Akroreia and Pisatis from Elis, neither of these areas became Arkadian, but instead each became an independent state allied to the Arkadian

confederation: while the very special identity which association with the sanctuary at Olympia Arkadians,

Pisa derived from its

may have separated it from

the

it is harder to see what would prevent the Akroreians from be-

coming Arkadian as their neighbour Lasion did. Moreover, as with the passage

150

JAMES ROY

of time ethnic links acquired historical force, they could linger on even when new

political

associations

had

overtaken

them,

as was

the case

with

the

Lepreates of Pausanias’ day who, though long incorporated in Elis, still wanted to be Arkadian. There was thus an interplay of political interests and ethnic identities, which

overlapped but did not completely coincide. With the passage of time the poliucal and ethnic sympathies of the communities in the frontier area were institutionalised

in memorials

and

cult,

and

no

doubt

enshrined

in folk

memory, but the potential for change remained. It seems safe to conclude that the frontier zone will have existed in the awareness that the regional identities which defined it were not fixed but were affected by tensions strong enough to

provoke shifts in these regional identities.

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of Arkadia

— the People, their Land,

and their Or-

Nielsen, T.H. 2000. “Epiknemidian, Hypoknemidian, and Opountian Lokrians. Reflections on the Political Organisation of East Lokris in the Classical Period,” CPC Papers 5: 91120. Nielsen, T.H. forthcoming. “A Polis as Part of a Larger Identiry Group. Glimpses from the History of Lepreon,” to appear in Belonging, the proceedings of a conference held in Nottingham on 12th-14th April 1999. Niese, B. 1910 “Drei Kapitel eleischer Geschichte,” in Carl Robert zum 8. März 1910 Genethliakon (Berlin) 3-47. Olshausen, E., & Sonnabend, H. (eds.). 1994. Stuttgarter Kolloquium zur Historischen Geographie des Altertums 4, 1990, Geographica historica 7 (Bonn). Papazoglou, F. 1988. Les villes de Macédoine a l’époque romaine, BCH Suppl. 16 (Paris). Pikoulas, Y.A. 1992-98 [1998]. “Τερμινισμοῖ Πελοποννήσου," Heros 10-12: 313-325. Plassart, A. 1921. “Liste delphique des théorodoques,” BCH 45: 11-85. Pritchett, W.K. 1989. Studies in Ancient Greek Topography. Part VI, University of California Publications in Classical Studies 33 (Berkeley & Los Angeles). Rhodes, P.J. 1997. The Decrees of the Greek States (Oxford). Ringel, E., & Siewert, P.,

& Taeuber, H. 1999. “Die Symmachien Pisas mit den Arkadern,

Akroreia, Messenien und Sikyon. Ein neues Fragment der ‘arkadische Bündnisstele’ von 365 v.Chr.,” XI. Olympiaberich: (Berlin) 413-420.

Roesch, P. 1982. Etudes Béotiennes (Paris). Rousselle, A. (ed.). 1995. Frontières terrestres, frontières célestes dans Pantiqguite (Paris). Roy, J. 1968. Studies in the History of Arcadia in the Classical and Hellenistic Periods (Ph.D.dissertation of the University of Cambridge, unpublished). Roy, J. 1971. “Arcadia and Boeoua in Peloponnesian Affairs, 370-62 B.C.,” Historia 20: 569-599, Roy, J. 1972. “When did Cleonymus Liberate Aliphera?” Talanta 4: 39-45.

Roy, J. 1994. “Thebes in the 360s BC”, in CAH? 6: 187-208. Roy, J. 1997a. “Spartan Aims in the Spartan-Elean War of ca. 400: Further Thoughts,” Electrome Annguity 3.6 (February 1997). Roy, J. 1997b. “The Penotkoi of Elis,” CPCActs 4: 282-320. Roy, J. 1998. “Thucydides 5.49.1-50.4: the Quarrel between Elis and Sparta in 420 B.C., and Elis’ Exploitation of Olympia,” Kito 80: 360-368. Roy, J. 1999a. “The Economies of Arkadia,” CPC Acts 6: 320-381. Roy, J. 1999b. “Les cités d’Elide,” in Le Péloponnèse. Archéologie et histoire, textes rassemblés par Josette Renard (Rennes) 151-176. Roy, J. forthcoming. “Problems of Democracy in the Arcadian Confederacy 370-62 BC,” to appear in R.W. Brock & S.J. Hodkinson (eds.), Alternatives to the Democratic Polis. Sinn, U. 1978. “Das Heiligtum der Artemis Limnatis bei Kombothekra,” AM 93: 45-82. Sinn, U. 1981. “Das Heiligtum der Artemis Limnatis bei Kombothekra,” AM 96: 25-71. Trianti, A.-I. 1985.

O γιυπτός διάκοσμος του ναού στὸ Mafı

τῆς Hieiag (Thessaloniki).

Walbank, F.W. 1957-1979. Historical Commentary on Polybius, 3 vols. (Oxford). Yalouris, N.

1971. “Κλασσικὸς ναὸς εἰς περιοχὴν Λεπρέου," AAA:

4 (1971) 245-251.

JAMES ROY

152

NOTES Ι am very grateful to Thomas Heine Nielsen for valuable comments on an earlier draft of this paper, and for allowing me to see and cite his forthcoming article on Lepreon; and also to Pernille Flensted-Jensen for information and helpful advice. Responsibility for the views expressed in this paper naturally remains entirely my own. On Kyliene and Pheia see Roy (1997a) and (1999b). On the R. Neda, which was navigable for

small ships up to Phigaleia, see Paus. 8.41.3 and Freitag (1998); and on the possibility that there were Phigaleian shipsheds on the Neda see Cooper (1972). Paus. 8.5.8 recounts, in a mythical context and in order to explain the name Aiginetes given to an Arkadian king who figures in his version of the Arkadian myth of origin, the transport of goods by pack-animals from the harbour

at Kyliene into Arkadia by Aiginetan traders. See Roy (1999a) 349-356 for the likelihood that there was such transhumance, though it has not

pneu»

yet been proved. See Morgan (1990) 79-85 & 96-98 on early Arkadian contacts with Olympia. See Roy (1971) 582-584, with references.

See Bengtson (1975) no. 193 on the literary and epigraphic evidence. Roy (1971) 594-595, and (forthcoming). Xen. Hell. 7.4.12-13, Diod. 15.77.1-3 (with confusion of Lasion and Triphylia). See Gehrke (1985) 54-55. Polyaenus Strat. 6.36 (repeated 6.40.3) says that Xenias was suspected of being pro-Arkadian and that opponents then succeeded in securing clear evidence of his sympathies, whereupon he was condemned to death. Polyaenus’ account does not offer even an approximate indication of date. K. Wickert (1967) RE 9A. 1440 (art. Xenias 2) suggested that this Xenias might be identified with the Xenias known as a leading pro-Spartan oligarch in Elis at the time of the Spartan-Eleian war of ca. 400, and that events reported by Polyaenus might have happened around 364; but there is no evidence to support such an identification, which seems inherently unlikely.

10.

Nielsen (1996a)

11.

12.

Nielsen (1996a) 33-36. The fragment in question is Hekataios (FGrHist 1) fr. 6: as Nielsen points out, the question is whether an entire passage occurring in Steph. Byz. is taken from Hekataios or only the verbatim quotation, since the evidence that Psophis was considered Arkadian is not part of the quotation. There is no evidence that any northwestern community other than Psophis was considered Arkadian in the Archaic period. Nielsen (1996) 36-44.

13.

Nielsen (1996a).

14.

Nielsen (19968) 338-362; Roy (forthcoming).

15.

The development of Elis into a unified state, reviewed very briefly in the present paragraph, is discussed at considerably greater length in Roy (1999b). See also Roy (1997b) on Elis’ relations with her subordinate allies. Nielsen (forthcoming) analyses the changing relations of Lepreon to Elis (and to other Triphylian communities, and to Arkadia).

16. 17.

See Nielsen (1997)

18. 19. 20.

32-36, cf. also 36-44 on the Classical period: see also Nielsen (1999).

133 on the use of “Eleia”.

Nielsen (1996a) 79-123, especially the conclusiona at 123. Nielsen (1996a) 124-285. Nielsen (1996) 124-168. Roy (1997b) 286-289

(with references to earlier work).

21.

Roy (1997b) 285-286: on Triphylia Nielsen (1997) 142.

22.

The frontier towards Elis was not of course the only Arkadian frontier where change occurred. Another example would be the frontier towards Lakonia, where territorial gains made by Sparta in the Archaic period were challenged once Arkadian communities became strong enough to so in the fourth century. Another example is provided by Stymphalos and Alea, which became linked to the Argolid (Paus. 8.22.1, 8.23.1).

THE

FRONTIER

BETWEEN

ARKADIA

AND

ELIS

153

23.

The difficulty of reading the letter in the top righthand corner of the text (either rho or upsilon) haa prevented a final resolution of the uncertain name: see Roy (1997b) 293-294 and 317 note 78. Lf Euroaoiot is the correct reading, the text presumably refers to an otherwise unknown community, probably a perioikic parmer of Elis: Elis had no reason at this time to make a military alliance with the known but insignificant community Eua on the east side of the Peloponnese. On the terms of the treaty, which favoured Elis, see Roy (1998) 367-368. Addendum: it is now higly probable that the text referred to otherwise onknown Ewaoioi and not to Heraia; see J. Roy & D. Schofield, “IvO 9: a New Approach,” Horos 13 (1999) 155-165.

24.

On Phrixa as part of Triphylia see Nielsen (1997) 130-132. Along with Phrixa must be considered Phaisana, though the evidence is too uncertain for any confident statement that Phaisana had been Arkadian but became Eleian. According to Pindar Οἱ, 6.52-57, Aipytos son of Elatos (son of Arkas) ruled over Arkadians in Phaisana by the Alpheios: these lines clearly caused difficulty for ancient commentators. According to I Pindar Of. 6.55a other commentators took Phaisana to be an Arkadian city, but Didymos, citing Istros ([FGrHise 334] fr. 41) said that it was Eleian: the scholiast adds that either Pindar was wrong or else at the time in question Pisa was subject to the Arkadians, a comment which shows that the scholiast considered that Phaisana lay within Pisa. The citation of Istros by Didymos presumably means that Istros considered Phaisana to be Eleian, but Istros’ own words are not given. It was suggested by Wellmann and then Wilamowitz that Phrixa, which - according to Stephanos Byzantios s.v. - was also called Phaistos, was identical with Phaisana. On Phaisana see Meyer RE 19 (1938) 1594-1595 (art. Phaisana), citing Wellmann and Wilamowitz, and RE 20 (1950) 1743 (art. Pisa, Pisans). Niese (1910) 6-7. Geographically the Arkadian communities which might have gained control of Epeion would seem to be Alipheira, or the Kynurians including Alipheira, or Heraia. Roy (1997b) 290. Nielsen (19966). See Nielsen (1996c) 75. Xen. Hef. 7.4.12-13, Diod. 15.77.1-3. See Roy (1997b) 284-285, 290, and also Nielsen (1996c) 75-77. Polyb. 4.73.1-2; Roy (1999b). Polyb. 4.77.10; Walbank (1957-79) 1.531 ad loc. Roy (1972). See also Nielsen (19962) 312-313. See Ager (1996) 111-112 no. 37 and Magnetto (1997) 208-211 no. 35. Rhodes (1997) 94 (SEG 25 448, with SEG 26 470) accepts that the text is an Eleian decree. There would be reason to believe that Elis had a more enduring effect on Alipheira if one accepted that Alipheiran cult was influenced by Elis. There was at Alipheira a cult of Myiagros (“he who chases the flies”), and in Elis at Olympia sacrifices either to flies themselves or to Zeus Apomyios or to a god Myiodes or Myiakores, as well as similar ritual in Akarnania: the evidence is set out by Jost (1985) 537-538,

but does not seem sufficient to justify the conclusion that the Alipheiran cult was derived from Eleian cult (though see the comments of Jost [1985] 82 that, since Alipheira lay in a frontier zone, its cult should be understood in the light of neighbouring areas). 34.

On the concept of the dependent, non-autonomous, pots see Hansen (1993) 18-20, (1995), and

35.

(1997). Dependent poles in Arkadia (but not the relation of Alipheira to Megalopolis) are discussed by Nielsen (1996c). Polyb. 4.77.10, saying also that it had from the beginning been subject to Arkadia and Megalopolis. Cf. Pausanias’ view (8.27.7) that Alipheira had continued to be regarded as a podrs until his own day.

36. 37.

Head (1911) 418. It also had a Delphic thearodokos: Plassart (1921) column Π.80.

Two fragments of a stele found at Alipheira apparently record a boundary arbitration berween Alipheira and Lepreon (Ager [1996] 226-228 no. 82, see also Pikoulas [1992-1998] 318 no. 8). The text is in Arkadian dialect. On the grounds that while both Alipheira and Lepreon were under the control of Elis in ca. 244-219, and equally while they were both under the control of Philip Vin 219-199, judges from elsewhere, such as Arkadia, would not have been used to settle such

a dispute, and also that outside judges would not have been used while Alipheira was part of Megalopolis from 199, the text has been dated to the years following 194/3, when Alipheira is supposed to have been detached from Megalopolis at the instigation of Philopoimen (see Ager):

154

JAMES ROY

bur Pikoulas dates it to the end of the 3rd century or the beginning of the 2nd. It should be noted that there is no clear evidence that Alipheira was restored to Megalopolis in 199 (Roy [1972]). 38.

39.

Roy (1999b). Theopompos

(FGrHist 115) fr. 144 uses the same verb to describe the relationship

of the polis Haioleion with the Chalkidian Confederation, and Flensted-Jensen (1995) 117-114 deduces from it that Haioleion was a member of the Confederation. Closer in time than Theopompos to Polybios is the series of Hellenistic East Lokrian decrees using the formula “Opountians and Lokrians with [meta] the Opountians”: the formula is evidently intended to show that the communities “with” Opous were dependent on it (see Nielsen [2000]). Pausanias also clearly regarded Psophis as Arkadian, though he reports variant foundation myths for Psophis (8.24.1-2}: see Jost 206 in Casevitz, Jost, & Marcadé (1998).

40.

On Triphylia see Nielsen (1997). For Triphylos ar Delphi see CEG II 824.7.

41.

Roy (1999b).

42.

Nielsen (1997), Roy (1999b}.

43.

Such territorial disputes will of course have occurred also across other Arkadian frontiers: an example

is

known,

for

instance,

on

the

Phigaleian-Messenian

frontier,

albeit

with

some

uncertainty over details. A decree of Messene, found at Phigaleia and generally dated ca. 240, records a decision that there be isopolity between Messene and Phigaleia (JPArk 28: see also Ager [1996] 119-124 no.40, Magnetto [1997] 230-237 no. 38, and Pikoulas [1992-1998] 323 no. 04), and Ager suggests that two other inscriptions establishing boundaries may relate to the same states and the same historical context: but Pikoulas ([1992-1998] 321 no. 17}, while agreeing that the second text settles boundaries berween Messene and Phigaleia, dates it to the 2nd century,

and (ἰδία, 321-322 no. 19) lists the third text, of which the surviving letters do not mention Phigaleia, as a settlement of a boundary between Messene and an unknown

state at the end of

the second century. Another inscription found near Phigaleia, though badly damaged, probably also records the settlement of a boundary involving Phigaleia (/PArk 29): the lettering suggests a date in the second half of the third century (see also Magnetto [1997] 195-197 no. 32, and Pikoulas [1992-1998] 317 no. 5). On Sthennis, who apparently became Athenian, see Gude (1933) 49 no. 110: he is dated 328 by Pliny NH 34.51, and was still active in 287/81 (/G VII 279). Moretti (1957) 128 no. 476 dates Pyttalos’ victory to 320, arguing mainly from the date of the sculptor Sthennis. Olynthos was destroyed in 348, but Olynthians continued to describe themselves as such for centuries, and another sculptor signed a work as an Olynthian in 62 (Papazoglou [1988] 426-427). Pyttalos’ judgment could therefore have been given at any time in the later fourth or earlier third centuries. 45.

Strabo 8.3.1, 8.3.32, 8.8.3: see the comments of Jost at page 207 in Casevitz, Jost, & Marcadé (1998).

46.

See the comments of Jost at page 215 in Casevitz, Jost,

47.

48.

That particular passage had, as Strabo (8.3.21) shows, drawn the attention of the Homeric commentators precisely because the reference to Pheia did not seem to suit the frontier area between Arkadian and Pylian territory, and an emendation to Chaa had been proposed, Chaa being supposedly an ancient town in western Triphylia near Lepreon. Nielsen (1997) 133: see also Roy (1999b).

49.

See Nielsen (1997)

& Marcadé (1998).

156, with discussion of the date at which the passage was composed. On the

problem of dating different sections of Ps.-Skylax see also Flensted-Jensen & Hansen (1996) 137138. 50.

Neither Pausanias 5.8.5-6 nor 8.26.3 makes it clear where exactly the tomb of Koroibos was situated, though 8.26.3 could be taken to imply that the tomb was not very far from the R. Erymanthos; but 8.26.3 supposes a disagreement, quite possibly amiable enough in the time of Pausanias, between Arkadians and Eleians about where the traditional frontier between Elis and Arkadia lay. (It should have been possible to establish where the actual frontier lay by finding the

frontier of Heraia, which held the Arkadian territory in this area in Pausanias’ day, but Pausanias does not offer any further information about Heraia’s frontier towards Elis.) If there was disagreement, the Eleians presumably claimed territory east of the R. Erymanthos, which the Arkadians saw as the frontier: see the comments of Jost at page 215 in Casevitz, Jost, & Marcadé (1998), where the words “à l'Ouest” are presumably a typographical error for “à l'Est.”

THE FRONTIER BETWEEN

51. 52. 53.

ARKADIA AND ELIS

155

On the peace terms at the end of the Spartan-Eleian war see Roy (1997b) 283-284, 299-304, and

Nielsen (1997) 137-139. On 365/4 see Xen. Hell. 7.4.12-13, Diod. 15.77.1-3, and Roy (1997b} 284-285, 290, and also Nielsen (1996c) 75-77: on 219 see Polyb. 4.73.1-2, and Roy (1999b). See Roy (1997b) 284, 297-298.

54.

See Roy (1994) 203-204. On the alliance see SEG 22 339, with SEG 29 405 and 32 411 ona new fragment mentioning Akroreia, also evidently an independent ally of Arkadia: the inscription will be discussed at length by Ringel, Siewert, & Taeuber (1999).

55.

Etymologicum Magnum 623.16-17: see Roy (1968) 42-43, Nielsen (1996a) 342-343.

56.

There is also no evidence that Akroreia was considered Arkadian in the years 365-362. Akroreia is generally much less well-known than Pisatis, and there is no obvious known obstacle to the Akroreians’ assuming an Arkadian identity. The reason for the Akroreians’ not becoming Arkadian may well be the simplest and most obvious, namely that they did not believe themselves to be Arkadian.

57.

Nielsen (forthcoming) analyses in subtle detail the shifting identity of Lepreon in relation to Elis, other Triphylian communities, and Arkadia.

58. 59.

On Triphylia see Nielsen (1997). On

the war between

Lepreon

and Arkadians,

and on Lepreon’s alliance with Elis, see Thuc.

5.31.1-5, cf. 5.34.1-2, 5.49.1-50.4, and 5.62.1-2. There is no reason to think that at the time there was an Arkadian confederation (Nielsen [1996a)), and so the possibility that Lepreon was at war with such a confederation can be excluded. Lepreon would be most easily accessible from Phigaleia, but, if it was being threatened by Phigaleia alone, it is a Little odd that Thucydides does not simply say so. In the Hellenistic period, at least, Lepreon and Alipheira had a common frontier, to judge by two fragments of a stele apparently recording a boundary arbitration between the two (Ager [1996] 226-228 no. 82, see also Pikoulas [1992-1998] 318 no. 8): this frontier presumably ran somewhere on Mt. Minthe, passing to the east of Typaneai. (See Pritchett [1989) 57 on two modern trails across Mt. Minthe from the area of Nea

Phigaleia, which is situated

nearer the site of ancient Lepreon than that of ancient Phigaleia.) It is therefore possible that Lepreon was at war with Alipheira, or with the Kynourians, to which Alipheira belonged. Having formed an alliance with Lepreon the Eleians put an end to the war, according to Thucydides (5.31.2), which suggests that the conflict was relatively minor and easily serded, though it had clearly worried the Lepreatans considerably. For the ambassador see Xen. Hell. 7.1.33, cf. Paus. 6.3.9: for the damiorgoi see IG V2.1. The listing of Lepreate rather than Triphylian damiorgoi raises questions about the terms on which the Triphylians joined the Arkadian confederation: see Nielsen (1997) 152-155. The evidence is assembled and discussed by Nielsen (1997) 134-135. 62.

Trianti (1985) 135-138: cf. 24-33 on the identification of the temple. The modern name of the site is Mazi.

63.

It was apparently not an obstacle to Triphylians’ becoming Arkadian that their dialect was significantly different from che Arkadian dialect, as SEG 35 389 shows: see the comments of Nielsen (1997) note 116 (on pages 147-148). Strabo's statement is made in connection with his report that some believed the Arkadians to be one of the three ethnic groups from which Triphylia (“land of the three tribes”) derived its name, but does not imply that Arkadian claims on Triphylia were made only at the time when a Triphylian identity was emerging. Apart from this passage of Strabo there is no other direct evidence that Arkadians outside Triphylia claimed Triphylia as Arkadian: but one might conjecture that claims of that sort would have provided a suitable background either for the war between

Lepreon

and

unnamed

Arkadians

in

the

fifth

century

(Thuc.

5.31.2)

or,

more

importantly, for the adhesion of the Triphylians to the Arkadian confederation founded in 370. The fact that in the third century the Aitolian Polysperchon used Samikon (Samia), on the coast,

as a base against the Arkadians (Paus. 5.6.1) suggests that the Arkadian campaign in this otherwise unknown conflict reached western Triphylia. After 146 some other Greeks, besides the Lepreates themselves, regarded Lepreon as Arkadian, to judge by Cicero’s freedman Dionysios, (ad Att. 6.23).

JAMES ROY

156 65.

66.

67.

68. 69.

On Lykourgos see Paus. 8.4.10-5.1: he appears in the myth as an Arkadian king who had no reported descendants because his two sons died before he did, and he could therefore be claimed by a community like Lepreon without seriously disturbing the myth. Another link between Lepreon and Arkadia might have been provided by ἃ cult of Zeus Lykaios at Lepreon, as suggested by Nielsen (1997) 153. Jost (1985) 269 pointed out however that the only evidence for this cult is an emendation of the text of Paus. 5.5.5: the manuscripts have Zeus Leukaios. The name Minyeios was Homeric (Ikad 11.722), and was identified with the R. Anigros according to Strabo (8.3.19), for which Baladié ([1978] 226 & 289) considers the source to be Apollodoros: the river in question flowed in western Triphylia from the western slopes of Mt. Lapithas to the sea (Baladié [1978] 249). Strabo also notes (8.3.14) that there was in Triphylia a river called the Arkadikos, formerly perhaps known as the Amathos or Pamisos. On the Prasidaki temple see Yalouris (1971). The cult, with its Arkadian priests, is recorded by Strabo 8.3.25. The context in Strabo is in effect

a commentary on Homer’s catalogue of the Pylians, and is presumably taken from Apollodoros (Baladié [1978] 95 note 2): the context shows that Alorion was situated in Triphylia, Baladié (1978) 96 & 247 suggested that Alorion was to be located near the sanctuary of Artemis Limnatis, presumably considering Heleia and Limnatis to be epicleses of the same cult of Artemis. The sanctuary of Artemis Limnatis, at Kombothekra, is known and has been excavated: see Sinn (1978) & (1981).

70.

The story of Sosipolis, as told by Pausanias, fits into a pattern of snake-heroes (Brelich [1958] 220-222), as does his name.

71.

Whether the monument (zmopeion) of a victory over (the) Arkadians which had once stood on a stone base in the gymnasium at Olympia (Paus. 6.21.2) commemorated Elis’ victory in the bartle involving Sosipolis or some other occasion is impossible to tell.

72.

Polyb. 4.77.10: see Nielsen (1997)

73.

On Classical Greek frontiers see Daverio Rocchi (1988), Olshausen and Sonnabend (1994), and Rousselle (ed.) (1995). On Oropos see J. WiesnerRE 18 (1942) 1171-1174, art. Oropos 1.

14.

131-132.

(edd.}

73.

Roesch (1982) 234: W.A. Oldfather RE 13 (1927) 1215-1237 assembles (but does not analyse comprehensively) evidence for the history of East Lokris in the Hellenistic period, including evidence for the inclusion of East Lokrian communities in Boiotia.

76,

Eleian expansionism may not always have been seen as a threat: Pausanias (6.22.10) says that

relations between Elis and Letrinoi were always good, and other perioikic communities in the area may have been willing to accept association with Elis as their best policy.

2 Community Aspects

of the Polis

Ethnos, phyle, polis. Gemäßigt unorthodoxe Vermutungen

HANS-JOACHIM GEHRKE

Die Suche nach sozialen Formierungs- und Identifizierungsprozessen in der

frühen griechischen Geschichte vor, während und neben dem zelebren Vorgang der Polisbildung scheint heutzutage von vornherein zum Scheitern verurteilt zu sein. Traditionelle, geradezu orthodox gewordene Vorstellungen zur

nach-mykenischen Zeit, die mit Wanderbewegungen fest definierter Gruppen, Stämme etc. rechneten und mit Analogien aus der mittelalterlichen Geschichte operierten, sind durch neuere Untersuchungen seit den 70er Jahren im großen

ganzen eindeutig widerlegt worden. Es hat sich mittlerweile eine gut begründete communis opinio herausgebildet. Sie gebietet höchste Skepsis und Vorsicht, und deshalb mag es weise, zumindest naheliegend sein, es für die Zeit der Dark Ages und große Teile der Archaik bei einem non liquet zu belassen. Wenn hier

trotzdem einige -- womöglich mittlerweile ketzerische — Überlegungen vorgestellt werden, so aus zwei Gründen. Zum

einen ist es unvermeidlich so, daß sich Forscher mit einer gewissen

Leidenschaft und Neugier besonders für das interessieren, was sie nicht wissen und

womöglich

nicht

wissen

können.

Und

zum

anderen

fordern

gerade

verbreitete und scheinbar eingefahrene Lehrmeinungen zu Widerspruch heraus

-- wie ja nicht zuletzt die Ablösung der älteren Vorstellungen zu den frühen griechischen Vergemeinschaftungen nachdrücklich unter Beweis gestellt hat. Nun hat vor allem unser Freund Mogens

Herman

Hansen originell, kennt-

nisreich und scharfsinnig immer wieder gängige “Orthodoxien” in Frage gestellt; und so mag es nicht unangemessen sein, ihm einige mittlerweile schon unkonventionelle Hypothesen als Geburtstagsgruß zuzueignen. Denn hypothetisch, so sei gleich vorausgeschickt, wird alles bleiben müssen, was wir nach derzeitigem Kenntnisstand zur Rolle elementarer Verbände, von Stämmen,

Clans, Phylen o.ä. in der Phase der Formierung der griechischen

Polis sagen können. Freilich gibt es diverse Plausibilitätserwägungen, die womöglich einen Bereich wenigstens gut begründeter Vermutungen abzustecken

erlauben. Unternimmt man dies, so ist besondere methodische Vorsicht geboten und zugleich der historisch-anthropologische Vergleich gefordert. Deshalb beruhen meine folgenden Überlegungen auf zwei Prämissen:

160

HANS-JOACHIM GEHRKE

1. Es muß klar bleiben, daß man hinter die erwähnte kritische Position nicht

mehr zurückgehen kann. Sie bezeichnet einen echten und markanten wissenschaftlichen

Fortschritt

und

ist theoretisch

und

methodisch

gut

fundiert.

Bezeichnenderweise hat auch hier Max Weber den Denkanstoß gegeben.' A. Heuß hat dann bereits

1946 mit einer grundlegenden Studie den Weg gebahnt,

die gründlichen und materialreichen Arbeiten von D. Roussel, F. Bourriot und F.

Prinz

brachten,

innerhalb

von

nur vier Jahren,

den

Durchbruch,

und

weiterführende Analysen wie vor allem die von Ch. Ulf und J. Hall haben diese

Position noch vertieft. Es ist nur zu verständlich, wenn sie so gut etabliert ist wie kaum eine andere zur Geschichte der ersten Jahrtausendhälfte v.Chr.” Man hat folglich davon auszugehen, daß die “Großstämme” der Aioler, Ioner und

Dorier’ und insbesondere auch die für die beiden letzteren bezeugten gentilizischen Phylen nicht genuine Verbände sind, sondern gleichsam Konstrukte, die ihrerseits erst mit dem Prozeß der Polisbildung ihre spezifische Gestalt gefunden haben, dieser also nicht als quasi eigenständige und feste Größen, als

Einheiten mit klarem Gemeinschaftshandeln vorausgehen.

Darüber hinaus

scheint aber auch im Hinblick auf die frühe Existenz anderer tribaler Gruppen,

wie Stamme, Clans, Sippenverbände, Skepsis angebracht. Jedenfalls dürfen griechische Bezeichnungen wie γένη, φρατρίαι, φυλαί nicht ohne weiteres ın diesem Sinne verstanden werden. Dies hat erhebliche Konsequenzen für die

Geschichte der Archaik generell, für die demgemäß der individuelle Freiraum der Oikosherren oder die große Relevanz von Siedlungsgemeinschaften betont

wird.‘ Wir haben es also mit sozusagen künstlichen Vorgängen zu tun, in denen einerseits die Polisbildung und andererseits die griechische Ethnogenese’ sich in einer Dialektik von Gemeinsamkeit und Differenz miteinander verquickten.

Dafür spricht in mancher Hinsicht auch die gezielte Schaffung von Phylen neuen

Typs,

auf lokal-regionaler Grundlage

im Zusammenhang

der “Ver-

dichtung” und des Fortschreitens der Polisbildung, wie sie etwa für Kleisthe-

nes in Athen, aber auch anderswo belegt ist.° Wie nicht nur die Namen dieser Einheiten zeigen, ließen sie sich durchaus als Abstammungsgemeinschaften

verstehen, obgleich sie dies nachweislich nicht waren. Allerdings bleibt aber auch angesichts einer derart gut fundierten Position die Frage offen - und legitim, inwieweit den Kunstschöpfungen nicht doch altere soziale Organisationsformen zugrundeliegen, mögen diese auch erheblich

und ggf. bis zur Unkenntlichkeit transformiert sein. Das führt zu meiner zweiten Prämisse.

2. Unlängst hat P. Funke in einem wichtigen Beitrag gerade an dieser Frage angesetzt und zugleich, im Anschluß an eine nach wie vor bemerkenswerte Studie von F. Gschnitzer’ und basierend auf eigenen Untersuchungen zum

ETHNOS, PHYLE, POLIS

161

Stamm der Aitoler, einen méglichen Ausweg gewiesen, indem er auf ethnologische Konzepte, insbesondere die von Ch. Sigrist mit Rückgriff auf E. Durkheim entwickelte Vorstellung von der “segmentären Gesellschaft” zurückgriff, die trotz mangelnder zentraler Instanz über ein hohes “Integrationsniveau” verfügt.’ Ich möchte genau an diesem Punkt ansetzen und für eine Erweiterung des theoretischen Instrumentariums, also für eine intensivere Auseinandersetzung mit soziologisch-anthropologischen Modellen auf der Grundlage interkultureller Vergleiche plädieren. Im Rahmen eines größeren interdisziplinären Forschungsprojektes (“Sonderforschungsbereich”) beschäftigen wir uns in Freiburg derzeit mit der Konstruktion und Konstitution kollektiver Identitäten und beziehen dabei auch neuere Theorien und Modelle der Sozialwissenschaften mit ein.’ In die-

sem Rahmen ist grundlegend, aller Regel an Beobachtungen einer Dialektik von Selbst- und Wege kommen Bewertungen

daß gesellschaftliche Identifizierungsprozesse in von realen Differenzen anknüpfen und sich in Fremdwahmehmungen verfestigen. Auf diesem und Zuschreibungen des jeweils Eigenen und

Anderen

über

zustande,

die weit

die ursprünglichen

Beobachtungen

hin-

ausreichen und überhaupt erst “Identität” und “Alterität” konstituieren. Wir haben es also nicht primär mit festen, klar und in jeder (oder entscheidender) Hinsicht abgegrenzten Größen zu tun, sondern mit soziokulturellen Konstrukten, die oft im Laufe längerer Zeiträume entstanden und allmählich erweitert und angereichert wurden. Wesentlich ist, daß sie nicht mehr als Konstrukt, als

Menschenwerk

sozusagen,

verstanden

werden,

sondern

als

objektive

Tatbestände, ja als naturgegebene Phänomene. Sie werden “verdinglicht”.!° Bezieht man solche allgerneinen Überlegungen auf den konkreten Gegenstand, die Vorstellung von - größerer — Stammesidentität und -- darin integrierter - Phylenidentität, so lassen sich diese sehr gut als Ergebnisse eines

entsprechenden Prozesses sozialer und kultureller Konstruktion verstehen.'! Ich will aber nicht von diesen ausgehen, sondern von dem, Prozesses stand, von den zunächst möglichen und für uns Wahrnehmungen und Zuschreibungen. Wir müssen also was im Ergebnis vorausgesetzt ist. Womöglich liegt hierin die reine Dekonstruktion

der Phänomene

und

was am Beginn des rekonstruierbaren nach dem suchen, eine Chance, über

über eher programmatische

Hinweise hinauszukommen.

Gehen wir auf diese Weise zu den Anfängen und versuchen, diese durch transkulturelle Vergleiche aufzuhellen, so müssen wir - insofern sind die Hinweise Funkes wichtig - “segmentäre Gesellschaften” bzw. einfach strukturierte tribale Verbände ins Auge fassen. Zusammenfassende ethnosoziologische Untersuchungen primordialer Gemeinschaften, besonders von kleineren Pflanzergesellschaften in Afrika, Asien, Australien und Lateinamerika, haben gezeigt,

162

HANS-JOACHIM GEHRKE

daß die Vorstellung der Blutsverwandtschaft für die Integration und Identität solcher Gruppen ganz entscheidend ist.!? Ausschlaggebend für “echte Identität”, wie sie in Lineages und Sippen zum Ausdruck kommt, ist die Verwandtschaft, “weil dies als die sicherste Gewähr für ein Optimum an Orientierungs-

fähigkeit und Vertrauen erscheint und die Gruppengrenzen eindeutig mar-

kiert”.'” Zwar herrscht in den kleinen Einheiten durchweg das Gebot der Exogamie, doch ist diese in verschiedener Hinsicht begrenzt, und ebenso dominiert

in den weiteren

Gruppen,

also auf der höheren

Ebene von Stamm

bzw.

Ethnos, eindeutig die Endogamie: “Auf diese Weise soll das eigene “Blut”, das,

letztlich zurückgehend auf das gemeinsame Stammelternpaar des Ethnos, in den Adern aller kreist, gleichsam “reinerhalten” werden.”'* Daß vergleichbare

Regeln der Idenutatsbildung auch am Beginn der hier behandelten Entwicklung stehen, liegt schon deshalb nahe, weil die nachweislichen Konstrukte alle mit entsprechenden Abstammungsgemeinschaften rechnen und nichts dafür

spricht, daß diese Regeln im Prozeß der Konstruktion erst entwickelt wurden. Doch es gibt noch deutlichere Indizien für eine solche Annahme. Beginnen wir mit den frühesten Belegen für die Bezeichnungen von phyle und phrame. Sie sind als Benennungen für Gattungen und Grundeinheiten von Bedeutung, wobei für erstere noch die neutrale Form φῦλον begegnet. Sie bezieht sich bei Homer,

Hesiod, in den homerischen

Hymnen

und in der frühgriechischen

Lyrik auf feste und bestehende Gruppen, die für die Zeitgenossen (der erzählten wie der auktorialen Zeit) klar erkennbar waren. Dabei geht es zum Teil

um biologische Kategorien. So gibt es φῦλα unterschiedlicher Tierarten,” vor allem aber “Phylen” von Göttern'® und Menschen,'’ von Giganten" und Frauen,'” und man meint damit das, was im Deutschen mit “Geschlecht” bezeichnet ist. Der Begriff läßt sich auch zur Kategorisierung anderer größerer Gattungen verwenden,” aber auch für kleinere Gruppen im Sinne biologischer Deszendenz, wobei nur die Singularform begegnet.”'

Für uns interessant ist der häufige Bezug auf soziale Gruppen im weiteren Sinne. Besonders aufschiufreich ist generell die vielverbreitete Stelle aus Nestors Mahnrede im zweiten Gesang der Ilias (2,362f.): Kpiv’ ἄνδρας κατὰ φῦλα, κατὰ φρήτρας,

᾿Αγάμεμνον, / ὡς φρήτρη Ppritpndiv ἀρήγῃ, φῦλα δὲ φύλοις. In

ahnlichem Sinne ist wohl auch die adverbiale Äbleitung καταφυλαδόν (Hom. Il. 2,668) zu verstehen, die sich auf Rhodos

und seine drei Poleis bezieht --

unabhängig davon, ob damit bereits an die drei dorischen Phylen zu denken

ist.?? Belegt sind ferner φῦλα Πελασγῶν unter ihrem Anführer Hippothoos als Alliierte der Trojaner (Hom. 1]. 2,840), die im übrigen von Hektor generell als

φῦλα περικτιόνων éenixovpwv (1. 17,220) angeredet werden.?” Wahrscheinlich ist auch das [Κεφαλλ]ήνων ἀγερώχων φῦλον bei Hesiod fr. 150,30 (MW) so zu verstehen.

ETHNOS, PHYLE, POLIS

163

Uber die in solchen Gruppen herrschenden Beziehungen und Vorstellungen läßt sich durchaus Näheres Hoplitentaktik

wider.*

ermitteln. Bekanntlich spiegelt Nestors Rat die

Dabei

geht

es

weniger

um

die

rein

Kampfesweise als solche, als um die (soziale) Kontrolle: Man

militärische kann leichter

erkennen, wer gut kämpft (Hom. I. 2,364ff.). Vor allem aber handelt es sich

um gegenseitige Untersrützung und wechselseitige Solidarität.”” Man hat also festzuhalten, daß eine soziale Gruppenbezeichnung, die - wie Etymologie und Wortgebrauch demonstrieren -- mit Herkunft und Abstammung zu tun hat, gerade auch die gemeinschaftsinterne Bindung hervorhebt. Das bestätigt die Analyse des abgeleiteten Adjektivs ἔμφυλος, das bei Homer (Od. 15,272f.) auf die Tötung eines Mannes aus derselben Bezugsgruppe angewandt wird. Sie veranlaßt den Täter zur Flucht aus seiner Heimat (πατρίς), und damit ist hier Argos gemeint. In der Lyrik bezeichnet es, als feststehendes

Beiwort (mit φόνος, μάχη, στάσις, πόλεμος), den Bürgerkrieg.” Offensichtlich bringt es gerade dessen eigentlich widernatürlichen Charakter zum Ausdruck, wie etwa die Vorstellung vom Bruderkrieg. Jedenfalls bezeichnet das Vergießen

von ἐμφύλιον αἷμα bei Pindar (Pyth. 2,32) einen Frevel besonderer Art.” Die scharfe Verurteilung des Bürgerkrieges ist bereits bei Homer belegt, wo derjenige sich außerhalb der Ordnung der Gemeinschaft stellt, der den “inneren

Krieg” anstrebt.” Der Gebrauch des Wortes φῦλον ist überwiegend unspezifisch, also nicht im

technischen Sinne auf die hier in Frage stehenden Phylen zu beziehen. Doch scheint mir an einer Stelle die Verbindung zu solchen konkreten Binnengliederungen evident zu sein,” und zwar gerade in den besonders instruktiven Versen aus Nestors Rat; denn neben den φῦλα sind dort die φρῆτραι bezeugt, und diese lassen sich wohl nur mit den späteren Phratrien verbinden.” “Die Phyle erweist sich dadurch

als eine wie selbstverständlich mit dem

Kampf

verbundene Gliederungskategorie”.”' Eine entsprechende Gliederung, nach den Phylen der Pamphyler, Hylleer und

Dymanen,

ist für die Zeit des Tyrtaios bezeugt

(fr. 19,7ff.

[W]).

Bei

diesem sind die genannten Einheiten in einem Kontext erwähnt, der eindeutig auf die Hoplitentaktik hin gestaltet ist. Diese Phylen sind nun gewiß auch mit

den in der großen Rhetra erwähnten zu verbinden” und deshalb wohl nicht nur rein militärisch zu verstehen. Jedenfalls haben wir eindeutige Belege aus dem 7. und 6. Jh. für eine politische Funktion von Phylen innerhalb der sich formierenden Polis.*? Damit ist keineswegs gesagt, daß Phylen und Phratrien

genuine Verwandtschaftsverbände waren. Ebensowenig aber ist zu übersehen, daß Gruppierungen mit einer -- mindestens erwarteten — Kohäsionskraft und militärisch-politischen

Bedeutung

im

Rahmen

von

Bürgeraufgebot

und

Bürgerverband nach dem Modell einer Abstammungsgemeinschaft aufgebaut

164

HANS-JOACHIM GEHRKE

waren. Wenn zudem im Begriff der Phratrie sprachgeschichtlich eine “Bruder-

gemeinschaft” steckt, obgleich das Griechische zur Zeit unserer frihesten Belege für jenen Begriff ein anderes Wort für “Bruder” hatte, so liegt es nahe, hierin Relikte älterer verwandtschaftlicher Organisation zu erblicken.* Zu bedenken ist ferner, daß die Vorstellung der Abstammungsgemeinschaft im Zusammenhang mit Phylen, Phratrien und vergleichbaren Gruppen lebendig geblieben ist, auch in späterer Zeit.” Sie waren mit Fragen des Personenstandes im alltäglichen wie kultischen Milieu befaßt. So lag die für die Frage von Leben und Tod entscheidende Prüfung des Neugeborenen in Sparta

bei den Phylengenossen.* Vor allem ist hier an die Funktion der Phratrien im Zusammenhang mit Geburt, Ehe und Tod zu denken,” die offenkundig alt war und in Athen selbst nach den Kleisthenischen Reformen erhalten blieb. Generell

bilden

die Phratrien

einen

Teilverband

der Phyle

oder

sind den

Phylen entsprechend konstituiert.* Im sogenannten drakontischen Blutgesetz

erscheinen die φράτορες auch als Rachegemeinschaft,” sie werden in die Neuregulierung des Racheverfahrens

integriert und erweisen sich damit als

älter und zugleich beständig. Wenn sie, analog zur Phyle, als Verwandtschafts-

verband gedacht waren, dann waren sie patrilinear und strikt agnatisch.* Nun Polis

kann man deutlich beobachten, daß in der Zeit der Formierung der neben

den

erwähnten,

im

wesentlichen

vorgestellten Verwandtschaftsgruppen

nur

noch

gedachten

andere “Vergemeinschaftungen”

bzw.

mit

hoher Solidarität standen, die auch ganz ähnliche Funktionen hatten, etwa als wichtige Bestattungs-, Trauer-

oder Rachegemeinschaften.

Sie werden

mit

dem Begriff der ἀγχιστεία erfaßt und sind für Athen, Delphi und Gortyn gut

bezeugt.*’ Das Wort bezeichnet eine - im einzelnen genau definierte — verwandtschaftliche Nähe,

die z.B. in Athen

bis zu den Kindern der Cousins

sowohl von der väterlichen wie von der mütterlichen Seite reicht. Es handelt sich also, wie man schon längst gesehen hat, nicht um geschlossene Sippenverbände,

die entweder

patri- oder matrilinear gedacht

sozusagen relationale Gemeinschaften,

sind,

sondern

um

sofern sie sich nur auf die jeweilige

Beziehung zu einer bestimmten Person gründen;* denn “si on est du groupe de son père, on n'est pas du groupe Phratrien oder ähnlichen

de sa mere.””

Sie sind also von den

Strukturen kategorial zu unterscheiden.

Offenbar

spielt hier die Verschwägerung eine sehr große Rolle, und deshalb erscheint es

sehr verlockend, das Auftauchen und die Relevanz derartiger “Vergemeinschaftungen”

mit der zentralen Rolle der Freundschaft in den griechischen

Sozialbeziehungen in Verbindung zu bringen, die ohne weiteres vor der realen

Verwandtschaft rangieren konnte, nicht selten durch Verschwägerung vertieft wurde und ein zentrales Element wechselseitiger Solidarität und Verpflichtung

darstellte.*

ETHNOS,

PHYLE, POLIS

165

Dariiber hinaus haben wir, wie jiingst W. Schmitz herausgearbeitet hat, innerhalb der archaischen Dorfgemeinschaften noch andere Formen von gegenseitiger Unterstützung, denen ebenfalls mehr Wert und Verläßlichkeit zu-

geschrieben werden konnte als verwandtschaftlicher Hilfe: die Solidarität der Nachbarn bzw. der Dorfgemeinschaft. Die daraus resultierenden Normvorstellungen und Sanktionierungspraktiken haben bei der Herausbildung der Polis

keine geringe Bedeutung gehabt.” In den sich entwickelnden griechischen Polisgemeinschaften standen also sehr verschieden konstituierte und sich jeweils überkreuzende integrative Kreise und Gemeinschaftsformen nebenein-

ander.“ Das läßt sich ganz offensichtlich nicht funktional, sondern lediglich genetisch

erklären,

als ein Nebeneinander

allmählich

gewachsener,

jeweils

unterschiedliche Entwicklungsphasen und Zustände refleknerender Elemente.

Wenn nun also Verschwägerung und Nachbarschaft, relative persönlichverwandtschaftliche und räumliche Nähe so starke Binde- und Kohäsionskräfte entfalten konnten, daß sie im Prozeß der Poliswerdung mit seiner zunehmen-

den Verrechtlichung nicht weniger bedeutsam waren als die patrilincaragnatischen Phylen und Phratrien, dann fragt sich, warum diese überhaupt eine Rolle spielten. Denn jene lassen sich recht gut mit den Zuständen der Dark Ages verbinden, aus denen heraus sich die soziale und politische Ordnung zur Polis hin verdichtete. Die locker und nicht herrschaftlich organisierten, vor

allem als Siedlungseinheiten greifbaren frühgriechischen Gemeinden mit ihren stark auf individuelle Freundschafts- und Hetairiebeziehungen orientierten Eliten verfügten über Modi der inneren “Vergemeinschaftung”, die patrilineare Strukturen zum Teil konterkarierten und sie notfalls auch hätten entbehren

können. Wenn diese dennoch eine nicht unwichtige Rolle spielten, so spricht alles dafür, daß sie bereits existierten und man mit ihnen zu rechnen hatte. Oder, etwas anders gesagt, wenn jene Strukturen, die uns bereits bei Homer belegt sind, von vornherein reine, im Kontext der Polisbildung entstandene Konstrukte gewesen wären, dann läßt sich vor dem Hintergrund der anderen Formen die Konstruktion gar nicht erklären. Warum hätte man nachträglich etwas

“erfinden”

sollen, das wesentlichen

sozialen Bindungskategorien

gar

nicht entsprach, und diese “Erfindungen” auch noch liebevoll ausgestaltet und im praktischen Leben realisiert. Reine Erfindungen hätten anders aussehen müssen.

Es bleibt also keine andere Möglichkeit

als anzunehmen,

daß die

patrilineraren Formen Relikte älterer Zustände waren. Was von vornherein angesichts der Verbreitung gerade dieser Formen, auf die schon hingewiesen wurde, eine gewisse Plausibilität beanspruchen konnte, wird durch diese Überlegungen wesentlich erhärtet.

Man kann aber noch einen Schritt weitergehen, da es ein wichtiges Indiz dafür gibt, daß diese Überlegungen auch ein fundamentum in re haben. Im

166

HANS-JOACHIM

GEHRKE

Gesetz von Gortyn gibt es einen in vieler Hinsicht wichtigen Passus über die

Erbtochter (natpoiéxoc).*”’ Für den Fall, daß deren Verheiratung mit einem Eheberechtigten (ἐπιβάλλον) nicht zustandekommt, ist eine Heirat mit jemandem

aus ihrer Phyle (ruAd) vorgesehen, und erst, wenn auch das nicht

realisiert wird, ist eine Ehe außerhalb dieses Kreises möglich. Die Phylen in Gortyn waren also ursprünglich endogame Verbände,“ auch wenn dies zum Zeitpunkt der Gesetzgebung nicht mehr strikt giiltig war. In Gortyn treten sie

noch bei dem Sonderfall der Erbtochterregelung in Erscheinung, und das ist unser einziger diesbezüglicher Beleg. Da es aber um das Relikt eines älteren Zustandes geht und wir überdies für die kretischen Poleis ähnliche Strukturen der gesellschaftlichen

Organisation

wahrnehmen

können

(gerade

auch

im

Hinblick auf die Phylen*°), ist es legitim, die kretischen πυλά in ihrer urspriinglichen Form so zu verstehen, und angesichts der vorangehenden Ausführungen

plausibel, für die griechischen Phylen insgesamt damit zu rechnen. Die Bedeutung dieses Phänomens

wird durch eine interessante Parallele aus dem

alten Israel illustriert, die bisher m.W. in diesem Zusammenhang noch nicht näher erörtert worden ist.”° Am Ende des Buches “Numeri” der Tora (36, I ff.) geht es um die Endogamie innerhalb der Stämme Israels. Dabei sind oberhalb der Ebene der Kernfamilie drei jeweils schrittweise weiter umgreifende, aber als patrilineare Abstammungsgemeinschaften

(“Söhne von ... ”) verstandene

Einheiten zu fassen: Die Sippe (mi$paha), der Stamm (matte) und das gesamte Volk (hier als “Söhne Israels” bezeichnet). In der Septuaginta wird sowohl die “Sippe”

als auch der “Stamm”

mit φυλή wiedergegeben,

letzterer auch mit

δῆμος (LXX 4.0. 6.8.12). Diese terminologische Unschärfe ist angesichts des späteren Entwicklungsstandes zu ignorieren.”' Möglicherweise wäre die “Sippe” mit der Frühform

der Phratrie zu identifizieren, der “Stamm”

ent-

spricht jedenfalis der Phyle. Er bezeichnet hier den endogamen Verband, und das wäre die genaue Analogie zu den eben erschlossenen kretisch-griechischen Phylen mit ihrer ursprünglichen Endogamie.

Die - ursprüngliche — Präsenz

von “Stammes- und Ethnosendogamie”, auf deren generelle Bedeutung für die

Identität primordialer Gruppen bereits hingewiesen wurde,” ist hiermit für den jüdischen

Kulturkreis gesichert und

scheint mir auch für den griechischen

bestätigt zu sein. Wenn nun gerade diese tribal-endogamen Verbände eine echte Kohäsionskraft hatten und die verwandtschaftlich-blutsmäßige

Identität der Gemein-

schaft verkörperten, wie dies durch die zahlreichen ethnologischen Parallelen nahegelegt wird, dann erklärt sich recht gut, daß die Griechen - gerade wenn es um wechselseitige Solidarität, soziale Kontrolle und kulusche Pflichten ging

— auf sie nicht verzichteten, sondern sie im Prozeß der Verfestigung und Institutionalisierung der Polis integrierten, umformten und sogar neu kreierten, ob-

ETHNOS, PHYLE, POLIS

167

gleich es doch andere bedeutende Elemente inner-gemeindlicher Verbindungen gab. Denn das muß natürlich, auch um Mißverständnissen vorzubeugen, mit Nachdruck unterstrichen werden: Die archaischen und klassischen Phratri-

en und Phylen sind aufs engste mit der Polis verbunden und haben ihren Charakter deutlich verändert, so daß man mit ihnen — unabhängig von ihrer ur-

sprünglichen Funktion und Struktur - relativ frei umgehen konnte, indem man sie ergänzte oder, nach unterschiedlichen Kriterien, neu schuf, sowohl in be-

reits existierenden Polisgemeinschaften als auch im Falle von Neugründungen. Nun ist aber damit noch lange nicht alles gesagt, denn die Phylen waren ja

nicht allein Binnengliederungen

innerhalb

der entscheidenden

politischen

Einheit, sondern sie griffen zum Teil über diese hinaus: Die ionischen und dorischen

Phylen

erscheinen

dann

einerseits

als

innere

Einteilungen

in

ionischen bzw. dorischen Poleis und sind andererseits zugleich konstituierende

Bestandteile der “Großstämme”

der Ioner und Dorier. Obgleich solche tri-

balen Untereinheiten (“Segmente” im Sinne Sigrists) durchaus charakteristisch

sind, sich mit den gerade konstatierten “Kreisen” von Identitätsgruppen sehr gut vereinbaren lassen und sogar noch in der klassischen Zeit für die Aitoler belegt sind,” ist ihre jeweilige Präsenz und geradezu schematische Verteilung in ganz anders strukturierten Gemeinschaften m.W. ohne Parallele. Gerade hierin liegt ein wesentliches Argument für die “Künstlichkeit” dieses Phänomens. Wie läßt sich dies vor dem Hintergrund der bisherigen Schlußfolgerungen verstehen? Hier scheint es mir sinnvoll zu sein, in den Bahnen von F. Gschnitzer und

P. Funke nach weiteren Elementen bzw. Relikten stammesmäßiger Organisation im archaischen und klassischen Griechenland zu suchen, welche nicht von

vornherein, wie die Ioner und Dorier, sozusagen dem Verdacht des Konstruktes unterliegen. F. Gschnitzer hat gezeigt, daß griechische Gemeinden nicht nur nach ihrem Siedlungsplatz (Athen) oder der von ihnen bewohnten Landschaft (Elis) benannt wurden, sondern daß regionale Bezeichnungen auch den Gruppen selbst, also den ‘Stämmen’, ihren Namen verdankten (Boiotien,

Thessalien, Arkadien usw.).** Solche Namen

seien also ein Indiz für eine

“Gemeinschaft, die vor der Bindung an den Boden da ist.”” Zwar wirke sich dann die räumliche Nähe des Zusammenlebens stärker aus; jedoch bleibe ein

übergeordnetes ethnisches Zusammengehörigkeitsgefühl bestehen und bilde nicht selten die Basis für eine veränderte bzw. intensivierte Gemeinschaft im

Rahmen eines κοινόν, also eines Föderalstaates.’ Diese wichtigen Beobachtungen lassen sich noch verstärken. Wie P. Funke gezeigt hat, liefern die Aitoler - sozusagen noch im hellen Lichte der klassischen Zeit — hierfür geradezu ein Paradebeispiel.*’ Für die Achaier, die Herodot (8,73,1) ein ἔθνος

nannte, kann man für einen früheren Zeitpunkt Ähnliches annehmen,” wobei

168

HANS-JOACHIM GEHRKE

sich dies interessanterweise im italischen Kolonisationsgebiet nicht nur gehalten, sondern noch verstärkt zu haben scheint.” Umgekehrt bliebe völlig rätselhaft, wie man sich eine umfassendere Identität

bzw. ein übergreifendes Zusammengehörigkeitsgefühl bei Phokern, Lokrern, Boiotern, Arkadern oder Akarnanen erklären soll, die größtenteils als Gruppen

bereits bei Homer belegt sind.” Denn diese lebten in geographisch stark fragmentierten Regionen, und es hätte im Prinzip schon von diesen “kantonalen” Zuständen her nahegelegen, daß sich ganz eigenständige und auf den Sied-

lungsraum beschränkte “Ortsgemeinden” ergeben hätten. Dies sticht um so mehr ins Auge, als es, nicht zuletzt dank der vom Copenhagen Polis Center initiierten und koordinierten Forschungen, nunmehr massive Indizien für eine frühe (d.h. bereits archaisch-frühklassische) institutionelle Entwicklung auch

und gerade auf der Ebene der Polis gibt.°' Auch wenn man das Beispiel der Schweiz mindestens

im Hinterkopf haben muß,

Existenz von polisübergreifenden

so ist doch die verbreitete

Identitäten vor dem

Hintergrund

dieser

Entwicklung kaum anders zu erklären als mit der Annahme bereits vorgängiger Existenz größerer Einheiten. Freilich dürfen wir eines dabei nicht übersehen: Diese Einheiten sind nicht

als feste Größen in einem gleichsam objektiven oder gar biologischen Sinne zu verstehen, sondern - im Sinne unserer zweiten Prämisse - als später nicht mehr als solche wahrgenommene Konstrukte. Sie werden, wie im Vorangehenden gezeigt, an konkrete Gegebenheiten angeknüpft haben. Aber selbst wenn sie

auf feste Vorstellungen von Lineages oder anderen verwandtschaftlichen Beziehungen gegründet waren, so war gar nicht entscheidend, daß diese real gegeben waren, sondern daß man sie für real gegeben hielt, daß sie “verding-

licht” waren. Schon längst hat sich in der modernen Geschichtswissenschaft ein an M. Weber und W. Mühlmann orientiertes Konzept von Stamm und Ethnizität bewährt (aber leider immer noch nicht wirklich durchgesetzt), in dem die Rolle der Selbstzuordnung und des Bewußtseins bzw. Empfindens

von Zusammengehörigkeit, kurzum des “Intentionalen”, das entscheidende Kriterium bildet.‘” Es geht also um eine “an sich nur (geglaubte) Gemeinsamkeit”

bzw.

um

den

“subjektiven

Glauben

an

eine

Abstammungsgernein-

schaft”. Dies gibt den Stämmen einerseits eine hohe Stabilität, zugleich aber auch eine nicht minder entwickelte Fluktuation und Dynamik. Gerade vor diesem Hintergrund erhalten die in Prämisse 2 skizzierten Phänomene von Selbst-

und Fremdwahrnehmung, Zuschreibung und Bewertung ein besonderes Gewicht. Sie können - je nach Situation, z.B. auf Grund einer durch hohe Macht

und

kriegerischen

führen

oder

auch,

Abgrenzungen.

Erfolg begründeten unter

anderen

Attraktivität — zu Identifizierungen

Voraussetzungen,

zu strikten

Aus-

und

ETHNOS, PHYLE, POLIS

169

Wenn wir mit einer umfassenderen Identitat etwa bei Arkadern, Boiotern

etc. in dem eben erschlossenen Sinn rechnen, so heißt dies nicht, daß wir deshalb an feste Großgruppen glauben, die in großen Wanderzügen irgendwelche

Regionen

überschwemmt

haben.

Sie

sind

das

Ergebnis

der

hier zu-

sammengefaßten Vorgänge, nur hatten sich diese mindestens zum Teil schon abgespielt, bevor die intensiven Polisbildungsprozesse eingesetzt haben. Einmal vorhanden und “geglaubt”, konnten die tribalen Zurechnungen aber auch wei-

terhin Wirkung entfalten. Ein besonders instruktives Beispiel ist Triphylien, das im 4. Jh. im Zuge politischer Vorgänge arkadisch wird und dessen Heros Triphylos zugleich auch in die arkadische Genealogie Eingang findet. Damit

gehörten die Triphylier auch zur Abstammungsgemeinschaft der Arkader.*° Diese theoretisch wie empirisch gut begründeten Erkenntnisse liefen nun in meinen Augen den Schlüssel für das Verständnis der polisübergreifenden,

also der dorischen und ionischen Phylen.* Sehen wir in den Phylen endogame Verbände, die sich als Stämme oder Ethne verstehen lassen, so heißt das nach dem eben Gesagten nicht, daß sie immer als solche fest gefügt waren und erst

in archaisch-klassischer Zeit umgeformt, verändert, “reformiert” wurden. Wir müssen

vielmehr

mit

einer

geradezu

permanenten

Dynamik

von

Wahr-

nehmung, Einschätzung, Zuschreibung, Zuordnung und Abgrenzungrechnen. Und es mußten gerade die traditionellen (d.h. schon “verdinglichten”) und in sich kohärenten Phylen sein, mit denen die verschiedenen Gruppen operierten, besonders in der frühen Zeit, als diese womöglich noch nicht durch andere

Integrationskreise relativiert waren. Vor einiger Zeit hat G.A. Lehmann vertreten,

mit großer Verve

die Dorier der “Seevölker”-Zeit

seien eine große,

die Auffassung aus Hylleern,

Dymanen und Pamphylern gebildete “Stämme-Föderation” gewesen, gekennzeichnet durch

eine “herrschaftliche Integration heterogener Verbände

(oder

Schichten)” und eine beachtliche Fähigkeit zur “Koordination”.®’ Man fragt

sich freilich, ob die von ihm hierfür vorgebrachten Argumente solche weitreichenden Schlußfolgerungen tragen können, zumal man ja wohl auch annehmen müßte, daß der mächtige Verband die ihm angehörenden Stämme in den Poleis etablierte, in denen dorische Phylen belegt sind. Wenn aber eine so hohe Organisationskapazität erreicht war, stellt sich die Frage, warum dieses

bedeutende Gebilde so sang- und klanglos verschwunden ist. Man wird hier wohl vorsichtiger sein müssen, aber auch nicht hyperskeptisch. Eine Dreiteilung der Dorier ist relativ früh, nämlich schon bei Horner belegt,

der unter der Bevölkerung Kretas Δωριέες τριχάϊκες (Od. 19,177) nennt.** Man kann sich also gut vorstellen, daß sich ein dorisches Ethnos aus drei traditionellen, d.h. endogamen Phylen, also Stämmen oder Unterstämmen, zusammen-

setzte. Dafür hatte man in den Aitolern sogar eine — spätere -- griechische

170

HANS-JOACHIM

GEHRKE

Parallele. Daß dieselben Phylen aber an verschiedenen Orten immer wieder auftauchten, wie es möglicherweise erstmals für Rhodos

bezeugt ist,” kann

man sich allerdings nicht allein oder primär durch eine gezielte und koordinierte Landnahme erklären. Nach dem bisher Gesagten liegt es viel näher, daß sich andere Gruppen, veranlaßt womöglich durch das erfolgreiche Auftreten der “alten” Dorier in den unsicheren Zeiten der Dark Ages, den Doriern zurech-

neten,’° wobei sie womöglich von Wahrnehmungen sprachlicher und religiöskultischer Nähe ausgingen. Diese haben sich dann durch die Selbstzuordnungen und damit einhergehenden Abgrenzungen verstärkt. Vor allem hätten dann

alle “neuen” Dorier die alte Untergliederung nach Phylen übernommen und diese traditionellen Verbände zunehmend transformiert, bis sie ein fester Bestandteil

ihrer Polisordnung

geworden

waren.

Die

für die ältere

Zeit an-

zunehmende interne Solidarität innerhalb der Phylen hat ja den Polisverband nicht überschritten, denn Hylleer, Dymanen

und Pamphyler lassen ja keine

Spur von polisübergreifendem Gemeinschaftshandeln erkennen. Wesentlich war die Demonstration der Zugehörigkeit, und für die Handlungen

relevant

war die Polis, innerhalb derer die Phylen ein integratives Element bildeten. Diese ließen sich dann, quasi nach Bedarf, weiter ergänzen und umwandeln.”! Die Formierung des “Ionertums” wird sich prinzipiell ähnlich verstehen lassen, nur bietet hier die Quellenlage keine Hinweise,

die auch nur hypo-

thetische Vorschläge zur Konkretisierung erlauben. Es bleibt aber nach wie vor die plausibelste Erklärung, daß am Beginn der Entwicklung eine Kultgemein-

schaft am kleinasiatischen Panionion stand. “Von da muß der Begriff auf die

Inseln und das Mutterland übergegriffen haben.””? Ganz sicher ist, daß sich solche bzw. analoge Zuordnungen in der Zeit der Kolonisation noch einmal erheblich verstärkten. Die Wahrnehmungen von Nähe und Abstand wurden reichhaltiger und komplexer. Daß die neuen Städte in Phylen usw. unterteilt wurden, mußte geradezu natürlich erscheinen. Mut-

terstädte exportierten “ihre” Phylen, und damit erweiterte sich der Raum der Zuordnungen. Es gibt gute Anhaltspunkte dafür, daß diese im Koloniegebiet, also dort, wo sie gewiß nicht mehr genuin waren, sogar noch besonderes Gewicht entfalteten - man denke an das erwähnte Beispiel der Achaier. Das “Phylenmodell” konnte aber auch in Kolonien mit mehr oder minder gemischter Bevölkerung das Vorbild für die Schaffung und das Funktionieren

von Binnengliederungen geben,” wie ja durchaus andere, ganz neue Phylen auftauchten, die nicht dem Ionischen oder Dorischen zugehörten bzw. zugerechnet wurden. Damit ließen sich Nähe und Distanz unterschiedlicher Gruppierungen gleichermaßen verdeutlichen und “ausleben”.

Ein besonders gutes Beispiel liefert die Gründung von Thurioi, und das mag sogar ein gedankliches Modell für die Vorgänge in den dunklen Zeiten ab-

ETHNOS, PHYLE, POLIS

171

geben: Die Errichtung dieser Kolonie war ein wichtiges Element in der nach dem Frieden von 446 demonstrativ panhellenisch orientierten Politik des perikleischen Athen. Die Bewohner wurden demgemäß, je nach Herkunft, in

10 Phylen eingeteilt, in denen sich folgerichtig die gesamte griechische Welt wiederfinden konnte. Ihre Bezeichnungen wurden, so Diodor (12,11,3), ἐκ τῶν

ἐθνῶν hergeleitet:’* drei für die Siedler von der Peloponnes (Arkas, Achais, Eleias), drei für die ἀπὸ τῶν ἔξωθεν (sc. außerhalb der Peloponnes) ὁμοεθνῶν

(Boiotias, Amphiktyonis,’”” Doris”) und vier ἀπὸ τῶν ἄλλων γενῶν (145,7 Athenais, Eubois, Nesiotis). Auf Grund einer politischen Programmatik konnten hier alle Griechen zugeordnet werden. Das ist im einzelnen künstlich, und es hat ja bekanntlich auch nicht dauerhaft funktioniert. Aber kann man sich

nicht den oben hypothetisch rekonstruierten Prozeß der “Dorisierung” bzw. “Ionisierung” ähnlich vorstellen? Eine Gemeinschaft, die sich — aus welchen Gründen

auch immer - einer größeren Einheit zurechnet, übernimmt deren

Binnengliederung, also alle ihre Teile, und ist damit komplett:

Dorier bzw,

Ioner im kleinen, so wie Thurioi ein Hellas im kleinen? Gewiß wäre ein Fragezeichen ein guter Schlußpunkt für einen so durch und durch hypothetischen Artikel wie diesen. Weil ich aber nicht mißverstanden werden

möchte,

sei noch

einmal

an Max

Weber

erinnert,

der die Phylen

dezidiert — und m.E. völlig zu Recht - als “Kunstprodukt der politischen Gemeinschaft”

bezeichnete.

Das

schließe aber nicht aus, “daß z.B. die helle-

nischen Phylen ursprünglich einmal irgendwo und irgendwie selbständig vorhanden gewesen waren und dann jene Poliseinteilung bei ihrer ersten Durch-

führung schematisierend an sie angeknüpft hatte, als sie zu einem politischen Verband zusammengeschlossen wurden.”’® Wenn meine Überlegungen dieses potentielle “Irgendwo” und “Irgendwie” mit ein wenig Plausibilität und Rea-

litätsgehalt versehen oder doch wenigstens Denkanstöße in diese Richtung gegeben haben, muß ich zufrieden sein. In jedem Falle vermitteln auch die hier erörterten Vorgänge bezeichnende Einblicke in die im einzelnen recht kom-

plexen Mechanismen der Identitätsbildung menschlicher Gemeinschaften und für den hohen Stellenwert soziokultureller (und lediglich quasi-biologischer) Faktoren in diesem Zusammenhang.

Angesichts der Herausbildung der Bio-

logie als aktueller “Leitwissenschaft” und gelegentlich recht kruder soziobio-

logischer Theorien kann daran nicht oft genug erinnert werden. ἢ

172

HANS-JOACHIM GEHRKE

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264. Gehrke, H.-J. 1994-95. “Die kulturelle und politische Entwicklung Akarnaniens vom 6. bis zum 4. Jahrhundert v.Chr.,” Geographia Antigua 3/4: 41-48. Gehrke, H.-J. 1997. “Gewalt und Gesetz. Die soziale und politische Ordnung Kretas in der Archaischen und Klassischen Zeit,” Klio 79: 23-68. Gehrke, H.-J. 1998. “Verschriftung und Verschriftlichung im sozialen und politischen Kontext: Das archaische und klassische Griechenland,” in Ch. Ehler & U. Schaefer, Verschriftung und Verschnftlichung. Aspekte des Medienwechsels in verschiedenen Kulturen und Epochen (Tübingen) 40-56. Gehrke, H.-J. (im Druck). “Mythos, Geschichte und kollektive Identität. Antike exempla und thr Nachleben,” erscheint in D. Dahlmann ἃ W. Potthoff (Hrsg.), Myzhos, Symbole,

Rituale. Die Geschichtsmächtigkeit der Zeichen in Südosteuropa im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert (Kolloquium Bonn,

15.-17. September

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Gernet, L. 1955. Droit et société dans la Grèce ancienne (Paris). Gschnitzer, F. 1969a. Zur griechischen Staatskunde (Darmstadt). Gschnitzer, F, 1969b. “Stammes- und Ortsgemeinde im alten Griechenland,” in Gschnitzer

(1969a) 271-297 (= WS 68 [1955] 120-144). Gschnitzer, F. 1971. “Stadt und Stamm bei Homer,” Chiron 1: 1-17.

|

Guarducci, M. 1937. “L'istituzione della fratria nella Grecia antica e nelle colonie greche d’Itaha. Parte prima,” Memorie Accademia Lincei. Classe Sc. Morali, Storiche e Filologiche, ser. VI, vol. VI: 1-103.

Hall, J. 1997. Ethnic Identity in Greek Antiquity (Cambridge). Heufi, A. 1946. “Die archaische Zeit Griechenlands als geschichtliche Epoche,” Antike und Abendland 2: 26-62; auch in: Gschnitzer (1969a) 36-96 sowie jetzt in: A. Heuß, Gesammelte Schriften in 3 Bänden I (Stuttgart 1995) 2-38.

ETHNOS, PHYLE, POLIS

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Hölkeskamp, K.-J. 1993. “Demonax und die Neuordnung der Bürgerschaft von Kyrene,” Hermes 121: 404-421. Jones, N.F. 1987. Public Organization in Ancient Greece. A Documentary Study (Philadelphia). Koerner, R. 1993. Inschrifiliche Gesetzestexte der frühen griechischen Polis (Köln). Lambert, S.D. 1998. The Phratries of Attica” (Ann Arbor). Larsen, J.A.O. 1969. “Der frühe Achäische Bund,” in Gschnitzer (1969a) 298-323 (engl. Original in: Studies presented to D.M. Robinson II 1953, 797-815). Latacz, J. 1977. Kampfparänese, Kampfdarstellung und Kampfwirklichkeit ın der Ilias, bei Kallinos und Tyrtaios (München). Lehmann, G.A. 1985. Die mykenisch-frühgriechische Welt und der östliche Mittelmeerraum in der Zeit der "Seevölker”-Invasionen um 1200 v.Chr. (Opladen). Morgan, C. & Hall, J. 1996. “Achaian Poleis and Achaian Colonisation,” CPCActs 3: 164232. Mühlmann, W. 1938. Methodik der Völkerkunde (Stuttgart). Müller, K.E. 1987. Das magische Universum der Identität. Elementarformen sozialen Verhaltens. Ein ethnologischer Grundriss (Frankurt & New York). Nielsen, Th.H.

1996a. “Arkadia. City-Ethnics and Tribalism,” CPCActs 3: 117-163.

Nielsen, Th.H. 1996b. Pollan ek Polion. The Polis Structure of Arkadia in the Archaic and Classical Periods (Diss. Kopenhagen). Nielsen, Th.H. 1997. “Triphylia. An Experiment in Ethnic Construction and Political Organisation,” CPC Papers 4: 129-162. Osanna, M. (im Druck). “Tra Dori, Ioni e Indigeni: Gli Achaei e gli altri nella Magna Grecia arcaica,” Vortrag auf dem Internationalen Symposion “Gegenwelten zu den Kulturen Griechenlands und Roms in der Antike”, Heidelberg 8.-11. April 1999 (in Vorbereitung, Hrsg.: T. Hölscher). Piérart, M. 1983. “Athènes er Milet I. Tribus et démes milésiens,” Mus Helv 40: 1-18. Prinz, F. 1979. Gründungsmythen und Sagenchronologie (München). Raaflaub, K.A. 1991. “Homer und die Geschichte des 8. Jh.s v.Chr.,” in J. Latacz (Hrsg.), Zwethundert Jahre Homer-Forschung. Rückblick und Ausblick (Stuttgart & Leipzig) 205256. Rhodes, P.J. 1981. A Commentary on the Anstotelian Athenaion Politeia (Oxford).

Roussel, D. 1976. Tribu er cité. Érudes sur les groupes sociaux dans les cités grecques aux époques archaïque et classique (Paris). Schimmel, A. 1951. Ibn Chaldun. Ausgewählte Abschnitte aus der mugaddina (Tübingen). Schmitz, W. 1994. Nachbarschaft und Dorfgemeinschaft im archaischen und klassischen Griechenland (Habilitationsschrift Freiburg); Zusammenfassung in Historische Zeitschrift 268 (1999) 561-597.

Ulf, Chr. 1990. Die homerische Gesellschaft. Materialien zur analyrischen Beschreibung und historischen Lokalisterung (München). Ulf, Chr. 1996. “Griechische Ethnogenese versus Wanderungen von Stämmen und Stammstaaten,” in: ders. (Hrsg.), Wege zur Genese griechischer Identität. Die Bedeutung der früharchaischen Zeit (Berlin) 240-280. van Effenterre, Η. & Ruze, F. 1994-95. Nomima. Recueil d’inscriptions poliriques εἰ juridiques de l’archaïsme grec, 2 Bde. (Rom). Vowinckel, G. 1995, Verwandtschaft, Freundschaft und die Gesellschaft der Fremden. Grundlagen menschlichen Zusammenlebens (Darmstadt). Weber, M. 1972. Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft’ (Tübingen). Wenskus, R. 1961. Stammesbildung und Verfassung. Das Werden der frühmittelalterlichen gentes (Köln & Graz).

HANS-JOACHIM GEHRKE

174

11 A.13.

(1993) 34.

Zu diesen entschieden anders Lehmann (1985) 63ff., vgi. u. 5. 169f.

Vgl. nur den kurzen Überblick Gehrke (1998) 40ff. Bes. Ulf (1996). Zu Chios vgl. erwa Jones (1987)

1911.

Gschnitzer (1969).

Funke (1993) bes. 35. 45ff. Generell 5. bes. Berger & Luckmann (1977); Gehrke (im Druck).

©

ot

Vgl. auch Funke

Zum Begriff5. Berger & Luckmann (1977) 72. 95f., vgl. Vowinckel (1995) 8ff. Vgl. entsprechend vor allem Hall (1997).

awe

eee

wh

be

—

Vai. Roussel (1976) 5 A.12; weiter neben den hier genannten Autoren ebd.

-

een ew ὦ

Ὁ κα

ANMERKUNGEN

Grundlegend Müller (1987). Müller (1987) 87£.

Müller (1987) 88, vgl. auch 95. 153ff. 212. Horn. fl. 19,30f.; Hes. fr. 33316 (MW);. Alcm. fr. 89,1,6 (PMG); Pind. fr. 70 Ὁ 21.c 18 (Sn.-M.). Hom.

I. 5,440ff.

15,54.

161.

177; Hymn.

Hom.

Cer. 36. 322. 443. 461; Hes.

Theog. 202. 965;

Op. 199, vgl. das φῦλον ὀνείρων Theog. 212. 17.

Hom. 7. 5,440ff.; Hymn. Hom. Ap. 273. Hymn. Hom. Merc. 23a25. 30,11. 43a6. 73,4. 240,4. 291,4 (zum Teil ergänzt).

18.

Hom.

19.

Hom. I. 9,130. 272; Hes. Theog. 591. 1021; fr. 1,1. 96,2. 180,10 (beides ergänzt) 25129 (MW);

Hom.

Ven. 3; Hes. fr.

Od. 7,206.

Sc. 4; Semon.

7,94 (W).

20.

Für die “Sänger” (ἀοιδοῦ, Hom. Od. 8,481.

21.

φῦλον ᾿Ελένης (Hom. Od. 14,68), φῦλον ᾿Αρκεισίου ἰδΔαρδανμδῶν μεγαθύμων φῦλον (Hes. fr. 165,12 [MW]).

22. 23.

Vgl. generell Hölkeskamp (1993) 414 mit Anm. 28. Wobei

578. Hymn.

(ebd.

181),

in

4,755

heißt

es

γονή;

sich zwanglos ein Bezug zu den “poleis” herstellen läßı, aus denen sie herbeigerufen

wurden (ebd. 222).

24.

Grundlegend Latacz (1977), weiteres bei Raaflaub (1991) 226f. mit Anm.

25.

ἀρήγῃ bei Hom. IE 2, 363, vgl. auch Hektors Appell in 17,220.

26.

Thgn. 51; Alem. fr. 70,11 (LP); Solon fr. 4,19 (W).

27. 28.

Der älteste Beleg für diese Wortkombination wohl bei Hes. fr. 190,2 (MW): ἐμφύλιον aiu' ...

69.

Hom. I. 9, 63f.: ἀφρήτωρ ἀθέμιστος ἀνέστιος ἐστιν ἐκεῖνος, ὃς πολέμου ἔραται ἐπιδημίονυ ὀκρυόεντος. Bezeichnend ist, daß hier ἐπιδήμιος ganz analog zu ἐμφύλιος gebraucht wird und der Ausschluß aus der Gemeinschaft auch mit ἀφρήτωρ wiedergegeben ist.

29.

Zu Rhodos vgl. o. Anm.

30.

Vgl. generell Ulf (1990) 149.

22.

31.

Ulf (1990)

32. 33.

van Effenterre & Ruzé (1994) 258.

34.

149; und es handelt sich nicht um eine Neuerung (ebd. 147f.).

Dreros: BCH 70 (1946) 590 n°2 = Lewis, GHi no. 8 = Nomima 1 n°62 = SEG 27,631 = Nomima I n°22, 1. aber gegenüber einem solonischen Chambers (1990) 178. So jetzt bes. Lambert

(1998)

Nomima I n° 64 = Koerner (1993) Nr. 91,1.1; Chios: Meiggs= Koerner (1993) Nr. 61, C9; Dattalla: Kadmos 9 (1980) 118 2; zu Solon vgl. die Hinweise bei Gehrke (1993) 63 Anm. 62, Rat der 400 ist auch Skepsis geboten, s. Rhodes (1981) 208f.;

269f., zum

Alter der Einrichtung vgl. generell auch Guarducci

(1937). 35.

Daß solche, verwandtschaftlich verstandenen Elemente als Faktoren besonderer Solidantät auch

noch in den verwandelten Polisstrukturen eine wesentliche integrative Einrichtung blieben und insofern für die Polis konstitutiv waren, ist der klassischen Staatstheorie völlig geläufig, 5. erwa Arist. Pol, 126428. 1280b33ff.

ETHNOS,

φυλεταί;

PHYLE, POLIS

175

Plut. Lyc. 16,1.

Busolt & Swoboda (1920) 133f. 254f.; Roussel (1976) 96ff., vgl. auch ihre Funktion in der delphischen Labyadeninschrift, jetzt Koerner (1993) Nr. 46, 1 9ff. Hom. Il. 2,362f., 5.ο.; vgl. Alem. fr. 5,2 col. 1 22ff. (PMG) und die Hinweise bei Jones (1987) L13ff. 174. 184ff. 192. IG 17 104,178; Dem. 43,57., vgl, Guarducci (1937) 131. Das läßı sich noch aus Dikaiarch fr. 9 (Steph. Byz. s.v. πάτρα) erschließen, der von Geschwistern von einem Vater spricht, also von Brüdern und Schwestern, eine Bindung, die auch über den Wechsel der Tochter in einen anderen Oikos hin erhalten bleibt. Vgl. die Hinweise bei Roussel (1976) 44f.; ähnlich ist womöglich die genea in Elis zu vestehen, Roussel (1976) 45 mit Anm.

42. 43.

42.

Roussel (1976) 44f,

Gernet (1955) 31. Vgl. hierzu Gehrke (1987) 132, 5. auch Blundell (1989) und weiteres bei H.-J. Gehrke, Der Neue Pauly s.v. Freundschaft. - Diese Phänomene erhalten ihr besonderes Relief durch einen Vergleich mit wesentlichen Gemeinschafts- und Solidaritätsvorstellungen im arabischen Kulturkreis (bes. bei Ibn Chaldun). Diese werden mit dem Wort ‘asabijja bezeichnet, das sich von 'asaba (“die männlichen Verwandten des Mannes”) herleitet (s. Schimmel

45. 46.

Schmitz (1994).

47.

Gortyn VII 40ff. (= Koerner [1993] Nr.

48.

[1951] XVII).

Man könnte weiteres hinzufügen, 2.B. die Rolle von Speisegenossenschaften und Hetairien, besonders in Sparta und auf Kreta, vgl. erwa Gehrke (1997) 35ff. 174; Nomima II n° 51).

“Tribal endogamy” Jones (1987) 222. 224f. (dort auch gegen Roussels Relativierung dieser Stelle), vgl. Bile (1987) 99: “c'est un mariage endogame,

étant donné que la fille héritière doit

épouser, de préférence, un homme de la même famille (de la famille paternelle)”. 49. 50.

Gehrke (1997) 361. S. jedoch den Hinweis bei Bile (1987) 97 mit Anm. 23, die im übrigen noch weitere (spätere) Parallelen gibt (97 Anm.

24f.).

51.

Zumal auch im Hebräischen die terminologische Scheidung nicht völlig strikt ist: So ist in 36,6 von der “Sippe des Stammes” die Rede, aber - wie der Kontext zeigt - die Stammesebene gemeint.

52.

Vgl. ο. 5. 162 mit den Hinweisen auf Müller (1987).

53.

Funke (1993) 46f., vgl. auch u. 5. 169%.

54. 55.

Gechnitzer (1969b} 279. Gschnitzer (1969b) 282.

56.

Gschnitzer (1969b) 282f. 2876, Funke (1985); Funke (1993) 46£; Funke (1997) 1478.

57. 58.

Larsen (1969) 298f., vgl. Morgan & Hall (1996) 197f.

59. 60.

Osanna (im Druck); vgl. generell Morgan & Hall (1996) 213f.

6].

Dazu Gschnitzer (1971). Zu Arkadien 5. etwa Nielsen (19962) und vgl. ders. (1996b); zu Akarnanien s. Gehrke (1994/95), generell

vgl.

die

Bemerkung

von

Morgan

&

Hall

(1996)

164:

“It

is perhaps

not

entirely

paradoxical that those regions of Greece which modern scholarship has traditionaily designated as ethnos states {in contradistinction to poles) may prove to have the greatest potential in illuminating the origins, narure and development of the polis by eroding and subverting many current orthodoxies.” Vgl. auch den Ansatz von Hall (1997). Weber (1972) 237; Mühlmann

(1938)

108ff. 124ff.; Wenskus (1961) bes.

1ff., vgl. auch Funke

(1993) 37; Gehrke (1994) 247. Weber 4.2.0. Gehrke (1994) 255 mit Anm. 40 und jetzt des näheren Nielsen (1997). Die verweisenden Zusammenstellungen von Jones (1987) 11f, ersparen die Ausbreitung des Materials, zu weiteren Hinweisen s. Funke (1993) 38f. Anm. 25f.

176

HANS-JOACHIM GEHRKE

67.

Lehmann (1985) 64ff.

68.

Schon in der Antike gab es andere Deutungen, die das Adjektiv von τρῖχες herleiteten und es dann etwa auf den Helmbusch bezogen oder die Dreizahl anders erklärten. Doch Hes. fr. 233 (MW)

sowie die Angaben zu Rhodos

(Hom.

Il, 2,654ff. 668; Pind. Ol. 7,134ff.) machen diese

Dreigliederung sicher. 69.

Hölkeskamp

70.

Mindestens bei den Argivern muß das relativ früh gewesen sein, denn daß sie sich in der Ära ihrer

(1993) 414 mit Anm.

24, vgl. o. 5. 162.

Feindschaft mit Sparta dem immer mehr von diesem repräsentierten “ Doriertum” angeschlossen hätten, kann man sich nicht vorstellen, zumal sie eher die heraklidische Tradition pfiegten (Hall [1997] 64f.). 71.

Zu den Tyrannen in diesem Zusammenhang 5. Jones (1987) 12f.

72.

Heuß (1946) 356 Anm. 6; hier dürfte auch der Apollonkult auf Delos eine Rolle gespielt haben.

Überhaupt

wäre

die

Rolle

von

Kultverbänden,

insbesondere

Amphiktyonien

in diesem

Zusammenhang, auf der Grundlage der hier herangezogenen Konzepte und im transkulrurellen Vergleich näher zu beleuchten. Man denke daran, daß auch und gerade in dieser Organisationsform tribale Zugehörigkeiten wesentlich sind. - Die Präsenz milesischer und damit auch ionischer Phylen in den Kolonien Milets ist ein deutliches Indiz für deren hohes Alter, “vraisemblablement au plus tard du VIII" siècle avant J.-C.”, Pierart (1983) 4. 73.

Ein schönes Beispiel dafür ist Kyrene, s. dazu Hélkeskamp (1993).

74.

Der Begriff ist hier recht unspezifisch gebraucht (Jones [1987] 165), aber daß er in diesem Kontext gewählt ist und im übrigen synonym mit γένος gebraucht wird, ist für die Modi der Zuschreibung charakteristisch.

75.

Hier sind offensichtlich die Siedler aus den Staaten der delphischen Amphiktyonie gemeint, die sonst nicht in einer der anderen Phylen “untergebracht” werden konnten, so Ehrenberg (1965) 305; Jones (1987) 164.

76.

Zwar hat Diodor an die kleine Landschaft Doris “außerhalb der Peloponnes” gedacht, aber gemeint sind wohl die Dorier insgesamt (Ehrenberg [1965] 305; Jones [1987] 158).

77.

Das muß sich, im Kontext, auf die kleinasiatischen Ioner beziehen (Jones [1987] 166).

78.

Weber (1972) 241.

79.

Vgl. hierzu bes. Vowinkel

(1995).

The Synoikized Polis of Rhodes*

VINCENT GABRIELSEN

I. Introduction

The decision of Ialysos, Kameiros and Lindos -- the three polets on the island of Rhodes — to unite into a single state is acknowledged to be a pivotal event in Rhodian history: it is the polis created through that merger that came to play a prominent role in Hellenistic times. Seen in a broader perspective, moreover,

the unification of the Rhodian poleis occupies a distinct (and perhaps significant) place in the series of similar processes that occurred at various times throughout the Greek world. It is only natural, therefore, that the Rhodian

synoikism and its consequences should receive much attention in modern scholarship. The current orthodoxy on this topic can be summarized in accordance with the three principal points it makes. (1) Having defected from the Athenian League to join the Peloponnesian

alliance in 411 BC, the poleis of Ialysos, Kameiros and Lindos experienced an oligarchic revolution. Concurrently with this (or shortly after), they carried out a political synoikism through which they united into a single state, governed by a central political authority. (2) The process of unification, however, was not

completed until also a physical synoikism had been carried out. That occurred in 408/7

BC,

when

citizens of Ialysos, Kameiros

and Lindos

came

to live

together in the new urban centre that had just been built in Ialysian territory,

the city of Rhodos. Designated as the capital of the new state, that city became also the centre of the Rhodian government. Thus the period 411-407 is seen as a transitional phase, during which the three city-states were linked together as members of a federal organization. (3) With the completion of the synoikism

in 408/7, Ialysos, Kameiros and Lindos ceased to exist as separate poleis, as they surrendered entirely their sovereignty (i.e. primarily their right to make independent decisions on matters concerning their relations with other states) to the newly-formed

state, the polis of Rhodes.

Henceforward

they simply

constituted subdivisions of the unified state, each representing one of the three

pan-Rhodian phylai: Ialysis, Kameiris and Lindia.' In this paper, I shall test each of these three points by re-examining the available evidence. I shall essay to show, first, that several of the claims made

178

VINCENT GABRIELSEN

by the current orthodoxy are unfounded. Second, that the event which modern scholarship calls the physical synoikism of Rhodos — associated with the building of a new capital — had quite a different character from most other known phenomena of that description. And third, that the unification of the three Rhodian poleis into a single polis not only had started well before 411 or

407 but also was a process that continued its course for a long time after these dates; in fact, Rhodos never became a fully synoikized state, either in the physical or in the political sense.

II. A political synoikism in 411 BC? Our principal sources for developments occurring on the island of Rhodes in 412/11

BC

Ephoros

are Thucydides,

probably

draws

Xenophon on

the

(Hell.) and Diodorus, who

Hellenica

Oxyrhynchia.

Their

through accounts

document the following events: at the end of 412, a large Peloponnesian fleet had assembled at Knidos; that force included a naval squadron which had been brought

from

Thourioi

by Dorieus,

an

exiled

member

of the

prominent

Jalysian family of the Diagoridai (Thuc. 8.35.1 [cf. Paus. 6.7.4], 8.43.2). Using this opportunity, the most powerful men in Rhodos (τῶν δυνατωτάτων ἀνδρῶν)

approached the Spartans and offered to come over to their side. Probably in early 411, the Peloponnesians sailed with ninety-four ships to Kameiros, where they called up (ξυγκαλέσαντες) the inhabitants of the three Rhodian cities and persuaded them to revolt from Athens and join their own side. This being done, the Spartans exacted a total of thirty-two talents from the Rhodians,

drew their ships on shore, and remained inactive for eighty days (Thuc. 8.44.14). At the end of the winter of 411, the Peloponnesian fleet left for Miletos (Thuc.

8.60.2-3),

but

in midsummer

Mindaros,

the

Spartan

admiral

at

Miletos, dispatched Dorieus with thirteen ships to Rhodes to quell an incipient revolt (Diod.

13.38.5, 45.1; Xen. Hell. 1.1.2).

It is indeed very likely that the island’s defection

from

Athens

was

ac-

companied by the establishment of oligarchy and that the Diagorid Dorieus

played a key role in that constitutional change: the uprising he came to quell in midsummer

411 seems to have been stirred up by the democrats

(Diod.

13.45.1); also, the constitution replaced by the democratic revolution of 395 BC was an oligarchic one, led by the Diagorids (Hell. Oxy. 18.2 [Chambers]).? However,

there is not the slightest indication in any of our sources that the

events of 411 included the implementation of a political synoikism.’ The callup (EvyxaAéoavtec) of the citizens of the three poleis (instigated by the Spartans in order to persuade them to change sides) is seen by some as representing the

THE SYNOIKIZED POLIS OF RHODOS

179

first assembly of the unified state,‘ but that is simply not what Thucydides (8.44.2) says; in addition, that view disregards the possibility that on several

occasions before 411 the citizens of the three poleis, or their representatives, might have convened to deliberate on matters of common interest (cf. section II below). Furthermore, a theoretical construct that envisages Dorieus and the Spartans Rhodes)

as collaborating

(during

the

eighty-day

stay

of the

Spartans

at

with a view to drafting the (oligarchic) constitution of the unified

state, a “constitution of Dorieus”, is entirely without substance, as is also the characterization of Dorieus

as “the Rhodian

Mausolus”.°

No

political syn-

oikism is attested by the extant accounts to have taken place in 411 BC. A cardinal piece of evidence adduced in support of the orthodoxy is a fragmentary

inscription

found

in Lindos.

That

text, which

is in the Ionic

alphabet, records a resolution of a council ([" Edéoée ta BpAüı) that declares an individual from Naukratis proxenos of “all the Rhodians”

(‘Pojôliwuv πάντων);

the decision is dated by making reference to a prytanis.’ The letter-forms and language of the document suggested to K.-F. Kinch, one of the original editors, a late fifth-century date. More importantly, Kinch pointed at certain elements

in this text that, in his view,

differ from

scriptions dating from the period during which

those

encountered

in in-

Rhodes was a fully unified

state: (1) Although the proxeny decree is enacted by a central] authority, that authority 15 simply “the council” and not “the council and the people”, as is universally the case with later Rhodian decrees; (2) the expression

᾿Ροδίων

πάντων is slightly reminiscent of, but quite different from, the expression ὁ σύμπας δᾶμος (or ὁ πᾶς δᾶμος, or simply οἱ ᾿Ρόδιοι) that is consistently used in Hellenistic

inscriptions."

Therefore,

Kinch

concluded,

while

the

proxeny

decree confirms that the political union of the three poleis had already been started, the expression 'Podiwv πάντων indicates that the synoikism was still in

its first, transitional phase, which lasted until 408/7 BC. Consequently, the inscription dates from a year between 411 and 408, the period during which Rhodes was governed by an oligarchic council, set up in accordance with the “constitution of Dorieus”. There are, however, objections to this interpretation. First, a decree enacted by the Rhodian council only is also attested in Hellenistic times.” Second, to be indicative of possible consututional changes the phraseology of the proxeny

decree must be compared to that of documents that are either contemporary with it, or fairly close to its presumed date -- a comparison which as yet is not possible: the epigraphic record of late fifth- and early fourth-century Rhodes

is deplorably meagre,’ and the earliest preserved enactment issued by the

Rhodian state is from the first half of the third century.'' Third, the phraseology of the proxeny decree may in fact be less decisive than Kinch and others

180

VINCENT GABRIELSEN

believe: while it is true that documents

of a later date refer to the Rhodian

people as ὁ σύμπας δᾶμος (or ὁ πᾶς Sapoc), in Hellenistic inscriptions an ex-

pression very similar to that of our proxeny decree is also used for drawing the same kind of distinction, i.e. between the entire Rhodian demos and the peopie of each of the three cities: ἐκ πάντων (sc. τῶν ᾿Ροδίων), e.g. δαμιουργοὶ ἀφ᾽ ἧς

ἔδοξε ἐκ πάντων αἱρεῖσθαι;}2 στραταγήσας)στραταγός ἐκ πάντων. Fourth, on closer inspection the letter-forms (and language) of the proxeny decree are also perfectly compatible with both an early fourth-century date and a pre-411 date.

The decree in question does show that a central authority could and did pass an enactment on behalf of (and binding) all Rhodians; hence a union of some kind had been effectuated by that date. But it cannot prove that such a union was established in or shortly after 411, or that the period 411-407 constituted

a transitional phase, immediately preceding the full synoikism. Furthermore, even if this document could be firmly dated to a year between 411 and 407, the crucial questions it raises are really of a different kind: (1) Did a formalized union — and with it a central decision-making body - exist also before the conventional date of the synoikism (411), in which case the independence of each of the three poleıs would

have been limited by decisions they took in

common? (2) Did the political and physical synoikism of Rhodos, claimed to have been fully achieved by 408/7, entail the complete (or almost complete) subordination

of the

three poleis as pure

and

simple

subdivisions

of the

Rhodian state and, consequently, the total surrender of their right to exist as politically and territorially separate communities? These are the main questions which I shall address in the remainder of this paper.

ΠῚ. Indications of unity before 411 BC: towards a political synoikism In this section I shall briefly review the evidence that might suggest the existence of a Rhodian union before 411 under the following subheadings: (1) Ethnics and political communities, and (2) Political bodies. My investigation will almost exclusively concentrate on sources dating from that period. 1. Ethnics and political communities The city-ethnics Jalystot, Kametrets and Lindiot occur in several sources, though, with the exception of (a) the coins issued by the three communities” and (Ὁ) the repetitive ATL comparatively

small:

(see below), two

the

total number

Jalysiot are recorded

of these occurrences

as mercenaries

is

in Egyptian

service in 591 BC;'° according to Herodotos (7.153.1), Gela was founded by Λίνδιοι οἱ ἐκ ᾿Ρόδου (“Lindians from Rhodes”); in the Athenian tribute quota

THE SYNOIKIZED POLIS OF RHODOS

181

lists, the three city-ethnics are attested several times during the period 454-414 (cf. n. 29 below); a lost speech of Antiphon was titled Περὶ τοῦ Aivdtwv φόρου

(“On the Tribute of the Lindians”).’® These

attestations of the city-ethnics are in accord with a number

of

instances in which Ialysos, Kameiros and Lindos are described as polets, either

in the urban or in the political sense of that term.'’ For example, Pindar (Oi. 7.18, of 464 BC) calls Rhodes a τρίπολις νᾶσος. Herodotos says that Ialysos, Kameiros and Lindos were among the five political communities (πέντε πόλιες)

that made up the Dorian πεντάπολις, formerly a ἑξάπολις (1.144). Elsewhere, in connection with the dedications made by Amasis (early sixth century), he calls Lindos a polis in the urban sense (2.182, cf. 3.47). In the context of 411

BC, Thucydides mentions the three poleis as political communities and, in addition, Kameiros as a polis in the urban sense (8.44.2, esp. Kapetpw τῆς "Podtac . χαὶ ἀτειχίστου οὔσης τῆς πόλεως). Also Diodorus mentions the three

Rhodian poles in connection with events occurring in the autumn (13.70.2, cf. Xen.

Hell.

of 408

1.5.1). There is thus sufficient evidence, especially

from the fifth century, to document the three Rhodian communities as separate poleis, each in possession of its own city-ethnic. At the same time, however, there are other, even more numerous occurrences of what we may provisionally call the regional ethnic Rhodior. In the Catalogue of Ships, Homer

calls the inhabitants of Lindos, Kameiros

and Ialysos

Rhodioi (N. 2.653-656). Hekataios (FGrHist 1) fr. 246, if he is cited correctly

by Stephanos of Byzantion 376.15, describes Lykian Korydalla as a πόλις ‘ Poδίων. For Thucydides, the inhabitants of the island were almost unexceptionally ᾿Ρόδιοι (exception at 8.44.2, though without use of the city-ethnics): one of the founders of Gela (seventh century) was Antiphemos ἐκ ᾿Ρόδου (6.4.3), and the colonizers themselves were

᾿Ρόδιοι (cf. 7.57.9); Thucydides

(3.8.2) and

Xenophon (Hell. 1.2.2, 1.5.19; cf. Diod. 13.45.1) agree in calling the famous Ialysian athlete Dorieus, the son of Diagoras, Δωριεὺς ᾿Ρόδιος; the expeditionary force to Sicily in 415 comprised δυοῖν ᾿Ροδίοιν πεντηκοντόροιν and odevδονήταις ᾿Ροδίων ἑπτακοσίοις (Thuc. 6.43.1); the island is inhabited by ᾿όδιοι who are Dorians and of Argive descent, genos (Thuc. 7.57.6); likewise, writing

of events of the year 412/11, Thucydides prefers the ethnic

᾿Ρόδιοι to the

ethnics of the three poleis (8.44.2, 4; 55.1; cf. also Diod. 13.38.5). In the light of these occurrences, it is not surprising to find, in an Athenian inscription, two

individuals listed among the crews of Athenian ships as * P6101." In these and other instances, furthermore, the ethnic ᾿Ρόδιοι is used in descriptions of all the Rhodians as a people with

a common

organization and

sharing the same traditions. In Homer, the three communities constitute the

three Dorian phylai among which the inhabitants of the island are distributed

182

VINCENT GABRIELSEN

(καταφυλαδόν, Il. 2.668),'° and so are parts of a single organization. In the fifth century, the Rhodians thought of themselves as a people with common roots: according to myth, the founders of the three cities, the brothers Kameiros,

Lindos and Ialysos, were the grandsons of a single ruler, Helios (who had espoused the nymph Rhodos) and had divided their paternal land into three shares (Pind. Ol. 7.73-75, on Helios also 58; Zenon [FGrHist 523] fr. 1, cf. Strabo 14.2.6 [653]). Also, it is probably right to consider the sanctuary of Athana at Lindos as a major cult centre that functioned as the focal point of Rhodian religious life, especially before the introduction of Halios as the official cult of the unified state: still in the first half of the fourth century, an important document recording a debt owed by the Kameirans to a citizen of

Kyrene for over two generations or more was kept not in the main sanctuary of Kameiros but in that of Athana Lindia;?' according to a scholiast on Pindar, Ol. 7, a copy of that work, inscribed in golden letters, had been dedicated in

the sanctuary of Athana Lindia — a dedication made by an Ialysian.” Besides, the priests τῆς τριπόλεως, appearing in dedications of an early first-century date, may

attest to a surviving, or reintroduced,

common

festival of “The

Three Poleis” which existed from earlier times.* Some of the coin issues (i.e. smaller fractions) minted by each of the three poleis after 479 BC, even though

of varying weight, have an identical obverse (the forepart of a horse).”* Collective action by all Rhodians is also suggested in connection with (a) colonization, (b) naval expeditions, and (c) the responsibilities accruing from their membership of a league. In his account of the foundation of Gela, Herodotos

identifies one segment

of the colonizers

as the “Lindians

from

Rhodes and Antiphemos” (7.153),”° but Thucydides, apparently following a different tradition, says Κρησὶ τὴν Γέλαν ᾿Ροδίοις ξυγκτίσαντας (7.57.9).% In the Homeric Catalogue of Ships, the squadron of nine ships provided by Ialysos, Kameiros and Lindos - specified as νῆας . ᾿Ροδίων — is placed under a common

command,

that of the Rhodian

Tlepolemos

(Il. 2.653-656).

The

appeal (in 412/11) of the Spartan Xenophantidas to the Rhodians to assist him with “all their ships” (Thuc. 8.55.2) implies at least some coordination of naval matters and perhaps also a central authority to sanction a common

line of

action. Likewise, the Rhodian ships which, according to Xenophon

(Hell.

1.5.1), were requisitioned by Lysander in the autumn of 408 can only have been those of the three poleis; in fact, Diodorus (ultimately deriving from Hell. Oxy.) is explicit that these ships were ὅσας εἶχον ai πόλεις (13.70.2, cf. Xen. Hell.

1.6.3:

onwards,

[Kallikratidas]

Rhodian

ναυσὶ προσεπλήρωσε ἐκ.

naval squadrons

᾿Ρόδου). From

are documented

as almost

305 BC

invariably

consisting of three ships, or else of a group divisible by three; probably such “threeness”, seen also in the Homeric Catalogue of Ships, reflects a traditional

THE SYNOIKIZED POLIS OF RHODOS

183

representation of each of the three communities in common naval operations.” For Thucydides, moreover, it is the ᾿Ρόδιοι who in 415 were forced to take

common military action against the Syracusans (7.57.6); their contribution to the Sicilian expedition included two “Rhodian pentekontors” and 700 “Rhodian slingers” (6.43.1); later, when they had changed sides, the amount of thirty-two talents demanded

by the Spartans as a war contribution was

levied παρὰ τῶν ᾿Ροδίων (“from the Rhodians”, 8.44.4); in 411, the citizens of

the three poleis assembled to debate whether to defect from Athens, decided to do so, and then put their decision into effect by going over to the Peloponnesi-

an side (Thuc. 8.44.2).”* That they assembled on Spartan initiative does not alter the fact that they engaged in acts usually distinguishing a political community. A further instance is of special interest. In the Athenian tribute quota lists the payments made by the three Rhodian polets are invariably listed under the separate city-ethnics of these communities, Jelystot, Kameres, Lindtot

(e.g. IG T° 259.111.8, 26, IV.6; 261 IV.12-14).” But when speaking of the Athenian allies who took part in the Sicilian expedition (415), Thucydides lists

one class of allies under the subheading ὑπηκόων καὶ φόρου ὑποτελῶν (“those who are subjects and tributaries”, 7.57.4) and goes on to mention among the allies of that class the “Rhodians”

(7.57.6), rather than the Ialysians, the

Kameirans and the Lindians. To

sum

up, in several

instances

our sources

seem

to prefer the ethnic

᾿Ρόδιος; Ῥόδιοι to the city-ethnics of the three Rhodian poleis. In addition, that usage is encountered in descriptions of the ᾿Ρόδιοι as an ethnos whose unity is underlined by (a) their sharing a cult centre and the same foundation legends (with Helios as the original founder), (Ὁ) their claim of a common descent, (c) their membership of an overarching tribal organization, and (d) their collective

engagement in acts that usually distinguish a political community. Even so, the significance of the evidence presented above must be assessed with due regard to two considerations. First, co-operation among, and collective action by, the

inhabitants of a region, particularly those of an island, are quite natural and widespread traits that are seen to persist also after the emergence of poleis in a given region. Therefore they need not in themselves constitute proof of the existence of a firmer political organization such as a federation, but only a looser form of union.” Second, since our sources in general, and Thucydides

in particular, often use the regional ethnic when all the poleis of a certain region acted in common

(e.g. oi Λέσβιοι, used at a time when the Lesbian poleis did

not yet form a federation),” it might be argued that in this case too, these sources simply use ᾿Ρόδιοι as a convenient shorthand for the three Rhodian polets (hence indicating the notion of an island-wide identity), without implying the existence of a pan-Rhodian

political organization.”” However,

there are

184

VINCENT GABRIELSEN

three

pieces

of evidence

which

in combination

suggest

strongly

that

the

situation in Rhodes differed from that prevailing in other regions.

The first consists primarily of inscriptions from the fifth century that record Olympic victors by consistently using the ethnic ᾿Ρόδιος: e.g. Διαίγόρχες Aaulæyhitou ᾿Ρό(διος] (464 BC),” a usage also encountered in our literary sources. That none of the known fifth-century victors is recorded in inscriptions with his city-ethnic is indeed of significance, especially when we consider the pride that each of the individual communities of Rhodes took in stressing the victories won by its own members in the second century - i.e. in the very period in which Rhodes is agreed to have been unified.* One would therefore

have expected these communities to insist on having their victories credited to them individually (by recording them under their own city-ethnics) precisely in the period they are believed to be not yet formally united; but that is not the case. The tendency of non-Rhodians to regard the participants in these events

as ᾿Ρόδιοι must have coincided both with the wish of the victors themselves to be recorded

as representatives

of all the Rhodians

- rather than

of their

individual poleis — and with the inclination of the inhabitants of the island to perceive themselves also as members of a formally united community. The second piece of evidence is a passage from Herodotos. As we saw above, Herodotos too uses the term polis for Ialysos, Kameiros and Lindos (e.g. 1.144). However,

in his account of the foundation of the Hellenion in Nau-

kratis, he says (2.178): “these are the πόλιες that founded [Aellenion] in common ... of the Dorian [poltes] Rhodos (Δωριέων δὲ ᾿Ρόδος)᾽". There can be no

doubt that all three Rhodian communities had taken part in the project.” None the less, in the 420s BC Herodotos understood all the Rhodians as members of one polis and their involvement in the foundation of the Hellenion as an act performed by a single political community. That he elsewhere calls lalysos,

Kameiros

and

Lindos

polets is not

a contradiction

but

merely

a

reflection of a circumstance to which the combined testimony of all of our sources points: namely that the three poleis were separate political communities

and at the same time formally united as members of a pan-Rhodian organization. Herodotos’

testimony

is confirmed

by

our

third piece

of evidence,

an

Athenian decree honouring an Eteokarpathian, his family and his co-citizens

for having provided cypress to Athens. In it the Athenians instruct their allies, specifically the Kwfio1, Κνίδιοι (or [Aivpıor?) and

᾿Ρόδιοι, to be of assistance

to the Eteokarpathians, and authorize an individual with the ethnic Αἰνδι[ιος) to deliver

the

cypress

to Athens.

This

inscription,

which

was

previously

assigned to ca. 394/3 BC, is now dated to the fifth century, and specifically to

the years 445-430

BC.”

Thus

we

now

have

epigraphical

evidence

con-

THE SYNOIKIZED POLIS OF RHODOS

185

temporary with Herodotos that (a) shows the Rhodians to be a single political community (a description which is also fully in accord with Thucydides’ classification of the ᾿Ρόδιοι among “those who are subjects and tributaries”, 7.57.4) and at the same time (b) uses the city-ethnic Λίνδιος for a citizen of one of the

Rhodian poleis. 2. Political bodies The

proxeny

decree

(/.Lindos

16)

discussed

in section

II is customarily

compared to a nearly-contemporary proxeny decree of Lindos.” This latter document is a resolution of “the council and the people” of Lindos (ἔδοξε ta

βωλᾶι καὶ τῶι δάμωιϊ) to the effect that Damoxenos, a resident of Naukratis, be written up as proxenos and euergetes of the Lindians (ἀγγράψαι πρόξενον Aıvötwv καὶ evepyétav); one copy of the enactment was to be set up in the sanctuary of

Athana at Lindos, another (probably the stone now extant) in the Hellenton at Naukratis. Since the Lindians are here shown to act as a political community in its own

right and with its own

assembly and council, this document

is

believed to date from a year before 411 BC. Furthermore, even though it too awards a proxeny, the decree is seen as documenting a situation that is chronologically and politically different from that depicted by the (supposedly later) decree that declares a man proxenos of all the Rhodians (Ῥοδίων πάντων):

the former is an enactment of pre-synoikized Lindos, the latter an enactment of the now (i.e. shortly after 411) synoikized Rhodos. Both decrees are dated and interpreted on the basis of the following assumptions: after entering the pan-Rhodian union in 411 BC, Lindos - as well as the other two polets — (a)

changed the name of its council from bola to mastroi,” and (Ὁ) lost its right to appoint proxenoi.”” These assumptions, however, can now be challenged. In the first place, the Lindian mastroi are not documented for certain before

the second century BC; those of Kameiros are restored in an inscription from the first half of the fourth century, while those of Ialysos are attested for the

first time in a document of the third century.* Thus, although the Lindian bola did later change its name to mastroi, it is not possible to establish even the approximate date of that change (but cf. n. 40 above). That it happened in (or

shortly after 411) is merely a guess. Consequendy, it cannot be precluded that during a certain period of time the council of Rhodes and that of Lindos were both called bola.

In the second place, a polis’ membership of a larger political organization, particularly a federal organization, did not necessarily entail loss of its right to award the title of proxenos. An adequately documented case in point is the Boiotian federation: from Hellenistic times, and until the dissolution of the federation in 171 BC,

numerous

federal proxeny decrees survive alongside

186

VINCENT

GABRIELSEN

even more numerous city proxeny decrees — with barely any differences in the

phraseology used in these two kinds of document.*' Therefore, while the accepted view is definitely correct in seeing the two proxeny decrees from Rhodes too as representing a federal and a

city resolution respectively, there is no

evidence to indicate that they emanate from two politically different situations, one from before and the other after 411. To interpret these decrees with reference

to a political synoikism

that is supposedly

attested by our literary

sources to have occurred in 411 will no longer do (cf. II above). Seen isolated,

of course, the pan-Rhodian and the Lindian decrees furnish no indications at all either to prove or disprove that the latter enactment was passed when Lindos was a member of a larger political organization. Seen together with the

evidence discussed above, however, they not only provide additional support for the view that Rhodes was politically united by that time, but also reveal the character of that union: while maintaining their status as separate polets (each

passing resolutions in the name of its bola and damos), the three Rhodian communities had united to form a federal state which at least had a common council (bola) and a board of prytaneis."” These documents and the political organization they depict may equally date from before as from after 411; indeed, it is even possible that they are of an early fourth-century date. In conclusion,

an early and presumably

looser union between

the three

Rhodian communities appears to have developed gradually into a formally defined political union characteristic of a federal state. Precisely how this process evolved and when its decisive steps occurred - if any such steps can be

isolated -- is impossible to tell. Three points 1 find to be decisive are, first, Herodotos’ application of the term polis to describe all Rhodians as a political community by the 420s; second, the reference in an Athenian inscription from probably 445-430

BC

to Rhodioi as Athens’ allies and to the city-ethnic of

Lindos; and third, the use of the ethnic Rhodtos to record Olympic victors in the fifth century - though my conclusions are based on the surviving series of these inscriptions, and I find it hazardous to use the earliest of these (from 464

BC) for postulating a terminus post quem. Central bodies of government (bola and prytanets) are attested in an inscription from perhaps the final part of the

fifth century, but that does not authorize us to infer that they could not have existed

earlier.

Similarly,

even

though

the pan-Rhodian

assembly

of 411,

reported by Thucydides (8.44.2), was held under exceptional circumstances,

it would be wrong to preclude the presence of a federal assembly before that year just because the federal proxeny decree was issued by the bola only. Finally, given the absence of evidence for a political synoikism in 411, the oligarchic poftteta introduced in that year (clearly one common to all Rhodians)

must have replaced a federal, democratic politeia.” I am unaware of any

THE SYNOIKIZED POLIS OF RHODOS

187

evidence from the fifth century that shows one of the three poleis as following a separate line in matters of foreign policy. These conclusions have at least two implications. First, in so far as the move towards a formalized union, or a political synoikism, is interpreted as a sign of resistance to Athenian imperialism,“ it can no longer be maintained that such a reaction came about in 411 BC. Second, Pindar, Οἱ. 7 (of 464 BC), is seen

by some scholars as containing allusions to early plans for a synoikism, con-

ceived by the Ialysian family of the Diagoridai.* Indeed, it is not at all improbable that the Diagoridai were warm supporters of a unification plan. But

the establishment of a part of a much longer part. Evolving slowly develop after the final

federal state by the late fifth century seems to have been process in which all three communities played an active already from earlier times, that process continued to years of the fifth century.

IV. The physical synoikism

It is widely agreed that the three Rhodian poleis also carried out a physical synoikism.*

The

principal

source

for

this

is

Diodorus

(13.75.1),

following his chronological source, says under the year 408/7 BC

who,

that “the

inhabitants of the island of Rhodes, those of Ialysos, Lindos and Kameiros,

moved (μετῳκίσθησαν) to one polis, the one now called Rhodes.””’ Definitely, a physical synoikism is claimed here, but an understanding of what precisely it involved requires treatment of three issues. 1. Whether Diodorus understood correctly his chronological source as saying that the city of Rhodos was already built in that year and whether that source was reliable are open questions. Excavation so far has, to my know-

ledge, not produced independent evidence with which to settle these questions.“* Moreover, the list of the priests of Halios, recorded in a fragmentary inscription that is believed to have been inscribed in 381/0 BC, cannot be used to confirm Diodorus’ date, since the beginning year of the list has itself been

determined to be 408/7 BC on the basis of Diodorus 13.75.1. An alternative date that has been proposed for the first priest recorded in that list is ca. 358 BC.”

A consequence

of this latter dating, which

rests on distinctly better

evidence, is that the building of the capital, whether in 408/7 or shortly after,”

is an earlier event than the decisions to make the cult of Halios the official state cult and its priesthood the eponymous

magistracy of Rhodos.

In addition,

Diodorus (13.75.1) provides one of the principal criteria for dating the earliest known federal coins, i.e. the Chian weight tetradrachms with Helios/Rose +

POAION and the Chian weight hemidrachms with Helios/nymph Rhodos +

188

VINCENT GABRIELSEN

POAI, to the years 408/7-405/4 ΒΟ." Indeed, numismatic criteria strongly suggest that these, as well and the immediately succeeding issues, pre-date 400 BC. But the crucial question is whether (a) their iconography and ethnic description and (b) their being issued by a common mint really signal a completely new political situation that came about in these years. First, as we have seen (pp. 181-3), the ethnic Rhodioi was in use long before 408/7. Second, not only is a common iconography already present on the obverses of fifth-century coins minted by the three poles (cf. 182 above), but the Helios

motif itself was being exploited as a symbol of Rhodian unity in other media since earlier times (e.g. Pind. Ol. 7.58, and the traditions lying behind it). Third, that joint coinage need not necessarily mean major political changes is now amply demonstrated by the fact that the poleis on several islands did mint

joint issues, even though they had not synoikized.* Fourth, if the issues in question really date from ca. 407 and not before (which latter possibility can now

not be excluded)

such

minting activity may,

on the contrary,

have

a

specific and very practical purpose: to produce the means with which to pay for large civic building projects, for instance, the founding of a new capital.” Fifth, as early as in the 460s coins on the Lykian weight standard, struck either for

or by Rhodians in Lykia, carried the legend POAION (i.e. nomisma).™ 2. The term polis, in Diod. 13.75.1, seems to be primarily (if not exclusively) used in the sense

“town”

and

refers to the new urban

centre, the city of

Rhodos, built in Ialysian territory (though plausibly not on entirely virgin soil)

and close to the old urban centre of Ialysos.** Even though Diodorus frequently employs the verb petoixéw (or μετοικίζω) to express the relocation of

various communities, in this instance he can only mean the move of segments of the citizen populations from the three polets to the new capital, and not an almost total, or even a substantial, abandonment of the three old poleis; if he

did mean such a thing, he was obviously wrong: the epigraphic and archaeological records furnish no evidence for a depopulation wave of any magnitude, either in the urban centres of Ialysos, Kameiros and Lindos or in the settlements within the individual choraï of these cities. Moreover, the only indication we have about the population of the new capital comes from a century later: according to Diodorus (20.84.2), a count taken during Demetrios’ siege (305-

304) of those citizens who were fit to fight and of those foreigners who both wished

and

were

fit to

fight

produced

about

6,000

and

1,000

persons

respectively. Even though these figures (provided they can be relied on) suggest that the city of Rhodos had grown populous by that time, its growth may well have proceeded piecemeal throughout the fourth century, with a substantial

contribution made to it by foreigners.*’ Archaeologists recognize two main phases

in the construction

of the capital: one until 304, during which

the

THE SYNOIKIZED POLIS OF RHODOS

189

emphasis seems to have been on constructing the public buildings and harbour facilities; and another after 304, during which the largest part of the city was built.” Hence, contrary to some modern claims that compare the Rhodian

synoikism to that of Megalopolis,”® the construction of the capital seems not to have been immediately followed by a significant demographic event. 3. In Hellenistic times, the three old cities constituted the pan-Rhodian

phylai (Ialysıs, Kameiris and Lindia), and the Rhodian state had a deme system. According to a recent view, these tribes and demes were created right after the physical synoikism. An important implication follows from this: now the deme system especially linked all citizens and all Rhodian territory (including the possessions of the three poleis in the Karian Chersonese, i.e. the “incorporated”

Peraia)™ to a central political structure which, among other things, provided the criteria for citizenship; thus a firmer union ensued on the physical synoikism. Attractive as it is, however, that view finds no support in our sources.°' The deme system is first attested in ca. 325 BC, or, possibly, later

in the fourth century, and its introduction is variously dated in the reign of Alexander, or in 395 BC, or even (in a less developed form)

in the period

before 408/7 BC. Consequently, no major political innovations are known to have been introduced shortly after the foundation of the capital. So, to the extent we can speak of a physical synoikism in about 408/7 BC,

that act appears to have consisted mainly of the creation of an urban centre common to all three communities, while at the same time each of these latter

retained its principal settlement, territorial boundanes, and the major part of its population. Therefore, the primary intention with the new capital cannot have

been

the

mere

bringing

together

of Rhodiot,

but,

rather,

the

wish

physically to synoikize federal power, political as well as military: the city of Rhodos came to serve as the seat of the pan-Rhodian government; it provided an unprecedentedly extensive naval base for the federal fleet;°* and at the same

time it stood as a powerful symbol of Rhodian unity and strength. As has been rightly suggested, the building of a common capital was often a way of solving the problem of neighbourly rivalries that were too strong to allow one place of primacy or esteem

over the others.” Yet, in the case of Rhodes,

one city,

lalysos, did prevail over the others, probably less owing to the political clout

of its native Diagorids and more because of its geographical position. It not only provided

an excellent naval

infrastructure,

but built as it was

in the

northernmost up of the island, the new centre of political and military power stood at the nearest possible location to - hence making

it much

easier to

control — the Karian Chersonese, “the ἔμβολος [ship’s ram] of broad Asia” (Pind. OI. 7.18-19).° Surely, also before 408/7

the Rhodians

themselves

must have been even

190

VINCENT GABRIELSEN

more cognizant of the strategic value of their island than the Athenian Demosthenes was later (351), when he called it “a fortress to overawe Karia”

(Dem. 15.12), in which case their Karian ambitions cannot have stopped short at the territories they already possessed

as incorporated.

Here

we need to

return to the revolt from Athens in 411, instigated by “the most powerful men” of Rhodos (Thuc. 8.44.1): that change of sides just meant subordination (with payment of tribute) to a different hegemon, Sparta, and can only make sense if

that new hegemon is assumed to have promised to honour territorial ambitions that at the time were unacceptable to (because in conflict with the interests of)

Athens. Thus, inasmuch as the events of 411 and the physical synoikism are connected, the principal themes linking them are control over the Peraia and Rhodian power concerns in Karia at large. To sum up, the foundation of the capital, and with it the issuing of federal coinage, takes its own distinct place

in the long process of unification; but it hardly completes it.

V. The federal state and its institutions

In the extant accounts,

especially those reporting on major political con-

vulsions on the island, fourth-century Rhodos is depicted as a single polis. For instance, in describing the democratic revolution of 395, the Oxyrhynchos

historian mentions the body politic (πολῖται), an assembiy attended by “the multitude of the Rhodians” (συνῆγον τὸ πλῆθος τὸ τῶν ᾿Ροδίων [εἰς ἐκκλησίαν);

and not least the replacement of a common oligarchic pohte:a with

a demo-

cratic one.° Much the same picture emerges from the sources dealing with the (abortive?) oligarchic revolution of 391° and the definite oligarchic take-over,

supported by Mausolos (ca. 357-353), δ on the one hand, and with Rhodes’ membership of the Second Athenian League (378/7),° her revolt from that league (357-355),”° the ensuing period of Karian domination,”' and, finally, the

period under Alexander (332-323),’* during which democracy was reinstalled, on the other hand (cf. also Arist.

᾿Ροδίων πολιτεία [= Rose fr. 569]). From

then onwards, our source material grows gradually ncher, allowing a reason-

ably detailed description of the main political institutions. The

unified people of Rhodes,

formally referred to as 6 πᾶς δᾶμος, or ὁ

σύμπας δᾶμος, enjoyed freedom of speech (παρρησία) and equality in the right

to move proposals (ἰσηγορία) in the people’s Assembly (ἐκκλησία), the highest

political authority in the state. The Assembly met in the theatre of the capital, possibly once a month, to debate issues relating to Rhodos’ domestic and foreign affairs.”* Enactments passed by the Assembly took the form of laws (νόμοι)

or decrees

(padiopata),

after a vote had

been

taken

on individual

THE SYNOIKIZED

POLIS OF RHODOS

191

proposals by a show of hands (χειροτονία). The ἐκκλησία was very likely also

responsible for the appointment of all those officials who are described as

having been elected by the whole (σύμπας) δᾶμος." As in many other city-states, the ἐκκλησία worked together with the council, βουλά.

The

members

of the

council,

whose

number

is unknown,

were

appointed (probably by lot) from among all citizens and served for a period of six months, a winter (χειμερινά) and a summer (θερινά) term (éE@uevoc)." The

members of the councils (μαστροῦ of Ialysos, Kameiros and Lindos (cf. below) appear to have been elected by the κτοῖναι and the demes of these cities;”’ it is therefore likely that the Rhodian βουλά, too, was manned by a similar method. A third body co-operating with the βουλά and the ἐκκλησία was the important

board of (usually five) πρυτάνεις." They had a πρυτανεῖον in the capital, and one of their members acted as a chairman of the board, which, too, served for a period of six months.” One of their main duties was to preside over the sessions of the ἐκκλησία (and of the BovAd?),® and, like the members of the

latter, they had the right to put forward proposals.*' Formal resolutions are introduced either with the formula ἔδοξε τῶι δάμωι5 or with the formula ἔδοξε

ti βουλᾶι καὶ τῶι δάμωι The administration of justice was the responsibility of the people’s courts

(δικαστήρια), which, like those of Classical Athens, were manned by lot and, specifically, through the application of a lot-drawing machine, the xAnpwtrpiov.** The same device was probably used also in connection with a number

of offices ιἀρχαῦ that were filled by lot.” Finally, state pay (μισθοφορία) was given not only to those citizens who attended the Assembly and manned the law courts and council, but also to those who served in various military, re-

ligious and civic offices, even though some might choose to fill the latter positions as “unsalaried” officials. In terms of evidence, we are thus in a far better position to describe the main institutions of the federal state from the fourth century onwards, and especially in Hellenistic times, than we can for the fifth century. A main reason for this is the almost complete absence of inscriptions down to the late fourth century

and the dramatic increase of such source material (together with the greater attention

which

Rhodos

receives

from

Polybios) in the subsequent period.

Hellenistic

authors,

not least from

192

VINCENT GABRIELSEN

VI. Indications of separateness after 411 BC 1. Three poleis within a single polis Referring to the autumn of 408 BC, Diodorus (13.70.2) writes of Lysander’s

arrival at Rhodes and his collection there of “all the ships which the Rhodian poles possessed”. Following the traditional view, one may explain the plural

poleis with the fact that the physical synoikism was still to come. However, the same explanation cannot account for Xenophon’s report (Hell. 4.8.25) that the enemy (i.e. the Spartans and the pro-Spartan Rhodians who were currently in revolt) “held the [Rhodian] polis”, because that event occurred in 390 BC. In the first instance, poleis denotes political communities, in the second probably

the urban centres of these political communities. Epigraphical evidence, too, attests to the continuing usage of the term polis, in both its political and urban senses, for Lindos and Ialysos. For example, in a Lindian inscription that mentions

ἐπιστάται elected εἰς Aivétav πόλιν, the reference is to a political

community and its territory, while in another inscription that mentions (a) the κατοικεῦντες ἐν Aivôtai πόλει and (Ὁ) honours awarded by the demes of Lindos,

ὑπὸ τῶν Sdpwv tov ἐν Λινδίᾳ πόλει, the term polis is used in both its urban and

its political senses.” A decree of Ialysos, dating from the third century BC and providing regulations for the sanctuary of Alektrona, specifies the location of an entrance as τᾶς ἐκ πόλιος ποτιπορευομένοις, and then mentions a descending

way from the ᾿Αχαΐα nölıc.‘® The first polis is not, as was previously believed, the city of Rhodos but the urban centre of Ialysos, while the ‘ Ayata πόλις is the lalysian akropolis, situated just above the city.” In another document, polis describes Ialysos as a political community.” This is in accord with an Athenian inscription from the 390s BC that uses the city-ethnic Jalystos for an individual

appointed as proxenos,

aman whose father had himself been so appointed at an

earlier date.”' Finally, the priesthood τῆς τριπόλεως, attested in the first century BC (cf. 182 above), constitutes further evidence for the representation of the three communities in Rhodian religious life as three polets. It can be concluded,

then,

that from

the fifth century

and

throughout

Hellenistic times Lindos and Ialysos continue to be called polis in both the urban and the political senses; even though no concrete evidence survives for Kameiros, a similar usage can be easily assumed for that city as well. Such

occurrences must be distinguished from references to the polis of Rhodes and to the federal capital, which latter is frequently called the “common

polis”, or the “great (μεγάλα) polis”, or, again, τὸ ἄστυ"

(xoivé)

THE SYNOIKIZED POLIS OF RHODOS

193

2. The political institunons of the three poleis

The body politic of each of the three cities is called ὁ δᾶμος (or τὸ πλῆθος, or τὸ κοινόν)" and is distributed among a number of χτοῖναι (units of a territorial description) and demes, which, in their turn, are distributed into three φυλαί." Whatever the precise date of their introduction (395 BC or later), the demes

seem to have had a double status, as basic units of the federal state and as equally fundamental subdivisions of the three polets. Being a necessary prerequisite for Rhodian citizenship, deme membership determined whether an

individual could participate in the political life of Rhodes. But at the same time it also gave access to the political life of Ialysos, Kameiros or Lindos. In particular, it decided the issue of whether and when an individual was eligible

for a number of city offices, election to which was governed by a rotation system applying to the three tribes in which the demes were organized.” The right of the federal state to put limits to the legislative activities of the demes was rivalled by the right of a city to regulate the affairs of its own demes.” Furthermore, while from a federal point of view all demes (and demesmen)

enjoyed constitutional equality, a city might impose restrictions on the right of some of its demes to participate in its religious and civic life: in Lindos, for instance, only demesmen of the twelve demes on the island of Rhodes were

eligible to the priesthood of Athana Lindia. Also, a deme may be more firmly attached to the federal system than to its “mother-city”: as a Rhodian deme the Chalketai (on the island of Chalke) were treated like any other deme, but as a Kameiran deme it is shown by a third-century decree to have had a greater

degree of independence.” In this area, then, Ialysos, Kameiros and Lindos seem to act as more than merely the three phylai of the Rhodian state. Each city has its own assembly (ἐκκλησία), officials (dpxat), and eponymous

magistracy (δαμιουργός)." Of considerable importance, furthermore, is the continuing possession of a council. Its members, μαστροί (plausibly serving for a whole year), assembled at their naotpeiov” and shared a secretary with the three ἐπιστάται; a board elected by all the citizens of a city and comparable to

the πρυτάνεις of the Rhodian state.'” In addition to their executive duties, the paotpot acted as a probouleutic body, co-operating closely with the ἐκκλησία in passing resolutions valid for their city only. Thus city resolutions, whether laws or decrees,'"' are introduced with the formula ἔδοξε μαστροῖς καὶ Λινδίοις! Καμειρεῦσι, ᾿Ιαλυσίοις.2 None of the extant city enactments represent decisions on foreign matters; that area was exclusively reserved for the federal government. An early third-century decree of the Kameirans lays down the procedure to be followed with the election of paotpof: after Kameiran

xtoivaı (on the island of Rhodes,

a complete registration of the in the Peraia and on the other

194

VINCENT GABRIELSEN

islands that had been incorporated into the Rhodian state), the members

of

each xtofva are to nominate one μαστρός in their own xtofva, “in accordance with the law of the Rhodians”.

The nominees are then to assemble in (the

town of) Kameiros, presumably for the final elections.'” Now, Lindian evidence shows that groups of μαστροί also represented certain Lindian demes,'’™ and,

since

the

smaller

units,

the

κτοῖναι,

and

the

demes

were

somehow

intimately related,’ it is fair to suppose that both kinds of unit were involved in the election procedure in a way that as yet is poorly understood.

More importantly, the election procedure laid down in the Kameiran decree and the reference there to “the law of the Rhodians”, suggest three things: that the way of electing μαστροί was enforced by federal law, that it consequently applied equally to all three poles, and, finally, that it signalled the replacement

of a previous procedure that may or may not have been uniform in all three cities.’ It is attractive to believe that on that occasion too the councils of the

three poleis were renamed from βουλαί to paotpot (cf. 186 above).!” Be that as it may, this reform is to be seen as one among a series of federal measures gradually introduced with a view to strengthening the pan-Rhodian union, not all of which, however, were successful. Towards the end of the fourth century, the Lindians honoured their three ἐπιστάται

together

(συναγωνίξασθαι

with

thirty elected

representatives

who,

ταῖς δίκαις), had successfully defended

in a legal

suit

their community’s

right to continue to elect priestly officials (ἱερεῖς, ἱεροθύται and ἱεροποιοῦ and

all other civil magistrates (τῶν ἐπὶ τὰ κοινὰ taooouév{w}v) at Lindos itself and from among the Lindians only, as was in fact prescribed by the laws (of Lindos).

It is commonly believed that the issue was tried in a federal court of

law,'” but since Lindian exclusivity in that area seems to have been challenged both by a prior federal resolution and subsequently (1.6. at the trial) by cor-

responding bodies of representatives of the Ialysians and the Kameirans, it is better to suppose that the case was heard by an independent panel of judges. Federal intervention in the affairs of the three cities is attested by a decree of the Rhodian state (from the second or first century BC) ordering that thenceforward all priesthoods should be recorded by the name of the incumbent, his

deme and the name of the priest of Halios serving in his year of office.''° Again, when at some first-century date the Kameirans changed the mode of electing their eponymous

magistrates (Saptovpyot)

to ἐκ πάντων,

meaning

probably

“from among all Rhodians” (instead of from among all Kameirans only),'"' they seem to have acted in compliance with a federal directive. Furthermore,

it was not until AD

23 that the Lindians agreed to change their mode

of

appointing χορηγοί for the Sminthia festival from the one prescribed by “old Lindian custom” {τ᾽ ἀρ[χαῖον] (ἔθγισμα Λινδί(ω)ν) to that prescribed by ὁ σύμπας

THE SYNOIKIZED POLIS OF RHODOS

195

dapoc.'!? Finally, it is worth noting that still in the second century BC the Kameirans and the Lindians were involved in a territorial conflict just like two separate states. That conflict arose from the encroachment by some Lindians on borderland formally defined as common and was settled by means of a legal

trial, the outcome of which apparently met the Kameirans’ claim that the land

concerned be returned to “the form it has existed in from the beginning”. It has been recently pointed out that Rhodes is the exception which proves the general rule that possession of a probouleutic council seems to be “one sign of a community which has aspirations to independence and does not accept a

definitely subordinate status”.''* In the light of the evidence presented in this section, however, one might ask whether Rhodes really was an exception from

that rule at all. Particularly the use of the term polis, together with the existence of probouleutic councils, strongly suggests that Ialysos, Kameiros and Lindos

were more than simple subdivisions of the Rhodian state which had retained a considerable degree of independence. Even though they actively participated in the

process

of unification,

one

continuing

to develop

throughout

the

Hellenistic period, they still went on existing as separate polets that had united to form a single, federal polis.

VII. Conclusion

It is generally maintained that the Rhodian state, whose institutions are known almost exclusively from Hellenistic sources, was created in the years 411-407 by means of a synoikism carried out by Ialysos, Kameiros and Lindos. But that time-honoured view, as well as its corollary postulate about a transitional phase that immediately preceded a physical synoikism in 408/7, can now be seriously questioned: it does not derive any support whatsoever from any of our literary

sources; two inscriptions usually cited to buttress it can now more plausibly be interpreted as separate enactments issued by two closely related political communities: the federal state of Rhodes and

a member of that federation, the

polis of Lindos. In about 408/7 BC, the three Rhodian polets founded the city of Rhodos as their common capital. Even though the language of our literary sources reporting that event (esp. Diod.

13.75.1) implies the occurrence of a

physical synoikism, that event appears to have been different in character from most other phenomena known under that description. For one, the archaeological and epigraphical records categorically exclude the notion of a significant

demographic event occurring right after the building of the capital. For another, no indications

exist for any major political innovations,

such as the

introduction of the deme system. A primary function that the new capital did

196

perform

VINCENT GABRIELSEN

from

the start, on the other hand, was

that of a civic centre

ac-

commodating the federal bodies of government and concentrating Rhodian naval resources into a single but unprecedentedly large headquarters. Hence, what was physically synoikized in about 408/7 BC was federal power, political

and military. That being said, however, the city of Rhodos, as well as the simultaneously initiated federal coinage (probably minted in order to finance such a vast civic project), indisputably came to stand as an impressive symbol of Rhodian unity. Such joint projects (capital and coinage) ought to be seen as parts of a long and gradual process towards unification. From the time of our earliest wntten sources onwards, Ialysos, Kameiros and Lindos emerge as separate political communities, which, parallel with their development as polets, were also active in slowly establishing and consolidating an island-wide union — one that encompassed

several aspects of their organization,

traditions

and

communal

activities. In the fifth century BC, and by the 420s at the latest, that move towards federal

unification had resulted in the formation of the polis of Rhodes, state that consisted

of three

communities

-- each

of which

separate pols. It is customarily held that after the synoikism of 411

was

a a

or 407

Jalysos, Kameiros and Lindos became mere subdivisions of the unified state. But that view is in need

of radical revision for two reasons.

First, fourth-

century and Hellenistic sources show that Ialysos and Lindos (and probably Kameiros too) continued to be called poleis in both the urban and the political sense. Second, all three cities possessed probouleutic councils. Thus they continued to exist as separate states (two of which were at one point enmeshed in a territorial conflict) that were united through membership of a federal state. Their right to make independent decisions on matters of foreign policy had probably century.

been

transferred

to the

federal

government

They can therefore be classed in M.H.

already

Hansen’s

in the

fifth

category of “de-

pendent pois”. To the known federal measures that were introduced with a view to harmonizing the member-states’ political institutions and procedures can easily be added

others, for which

no evidence

has survived.

All these

measures, each of which contributed to further consolidating the federal state,

shaped the polts of Rhodes in the form in which it is known in the Hellenistic period. Still, such federal directives as are known indicate, in addition, that the

political synoikism, at least, was still an ongoing process and (to judge from the reactionary responses to some of them) that individual members of the federation occasionally opposed the idea of surrendering entirely their right to maintain an existence as separate political communities.

THE SYNOIKIZED POLIS OF RHODOS

197

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Hansen, M.H. 1995b. “The ‘Autonomous City-State’. Ancient Fact or Modern Fiction?” CPCPapers 2: 21-43. Hansen, M.H. 1997. “A Typology of Dependent Poleis,” CPC Papers 4: 29-37. Hansen, M.H. 1998. Polis and Ciry-State. An Ancient Concept and us Modem Equivalent, CPCAcıs 5 (Copenhagen). Hansen,

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᾿Ανέχδοτες

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ID

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G.

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in Akten des XII.

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1987. “The Athenian Coinage Decree,” in Carradice (1987) 53-63.

Martin, T.R. 1985. Sovereignty and Coinage in Classical Greece (Princeton). Martin, ΤΙ. 1995. “Coins, Mints, and the Polis,” CPCActs 2: 257-291. Meiggs, R. 1972. The Athenian Empire (Oxford). Meiggs, R. 1982.

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Moggi, M. 1976. I sinecismi interstatali grect I (Pisa). Momigliano, A. 1936. “Note sulla storia di Rodi,” RivFi n.s. 14: 49-63.

Morelli, D. 1959. J cudti in Rodi, Studi classici e orientali 8 (Pisa). Moretu, L. 1957. Obympionikaı, ı vinciton negh antichi agoni olimpicı, Lincei, Classe di scienze morali-Memorie Ser. 8, vol. 8.2. (Rome).

Morricone, L. 1949-51. “I sacerdoti di Halios,” ASAtene n.s. 11-13: 351-380. Nixon, L. & Price, 5. 1990. “The Size and Resources of Greek Cities,” in O. Murray & 5. Price (eds.), The Greek City from Homer to Alexander (Oxford)

137-170.

NSuI = A. Maiuri, Nuova silloge epigrafica di Rodi e Cos (Florence 1925). Osborne, M.J. 1982. Naturalizanion in Athens II Commentaries on the Decrees (Brussels). Papachristodoulou, I. 1988. “Recent Investigations and Activities carried out by the Archaeological Service of the Dodecanese,”

in S. Dietz & I. Papachristodoulou (eds.),

Archaeology in the Dodecanese (Copenhagen) 201-209. Papachristodoulou, I. 1989. Of apyaio: “Podiaxoi δῆμοι. (Athens).

᾿Ιστορικὴ ἐπισχόπισῃ - ‘ladvota

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Papachristodoulou, I. 1999. “The Rhodian Demes within the Framework of the Function of the Rhodian State,” in Gabrielsen er al. (eds.), Hellenistic Rhodes: Politics, Culture and Society (Aarhus). Pollard, G. 1968. Catalogue of Greek Coins in the Collection of Sir Stephen Courtauld at the University College of Rhodesia (London). Price, M.J.

1987. “The Coinages of the Norther Aegean”, in Carradice (1987) 43-52.

Price, M.J. & Waggoner, N. 1975. Archaic Greek Silver Coinage: The Asyut Hoard (London). Pugliese Carratelli, G. 1949. “Alessandro e la costituzione rodia,” PP 4: 154-171. Pugliese Carratelli, G. 1951. “La formazione dello stato rodio,” Studi classici e orientali 1: 77-88. Pugliese Carratelli, G. 1956. “Ancora sui damot di Rodi,” Studi classici e orientali 6: 62-75. Reger, G. 1997. “Islands with One Pots versus Islands with Several Poleis,” CPCActs 4: 450-492.

Rhodes, P.J. 1995. “Epigraphical Evidence: Laws and Decrees,” CPCActs 2: 91-112. Rhodes, P.J. (with D.M. Lewis). 1997. The Decrees of the Greek States (Oxford). Robert, L. 1959. “Les inscriptions grecques de Bulgarie,” RPhil 33: 165-236. Ruschenbusch, E. 1983. “Tribut und Bürgerzahl im ersten athenischen Seebund,” ZPE 53:

125-143. Spier, J. 1987. “Lycian Coins in the Decadrachm Hoard,” in Carradice (1987) 29-37. Ste. Croix, G.E.M. de. 1975. “Political Pay outside Athens,” CQ n.s. 25: 48-52. van Gelder, H. 1900. Geschichte der alten Rhodier (The Hague). Waggoner, N. 1983. Early Greek Coins from the Collection of Jonathan P. Rosen, ACNAC 5 (New York). Walbank, M.B. 1978. Athenian Proxeny Decrees of the Fifth Century B.C. (Toronto-Sarasota). Weiss, A.-P.C. & Hurter, 5. 1998. “The Silver Staters of Ialysos,” SNR 77: 5-15.

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1983a.

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1-20.

NOTES *

It is a great pleasure to have the opportunity to honour Mogens Herman Hansen with a paper whose topic might be of some interest for the work of the Copenhagen Polis Centre. At the same time, it is a token of my gratitude and appreciation for the inspiration, learning and encouragement that I have so generously received from him. Finally, 1 wish to thank the

anonymous referee who has made a number of most useful suggestions.

200

VINCENT GABRIELSEN

Moggi (1976) 213-226, citing the earlier bibliography at 213-214; Hornblower (1982) 81-83, 86, 104-105; Papachristadoulou (1989) 35 with n. 261; Demand (1990) 89-94. The dynatotazoi andres who invited the Spartans to intervene (Thuc. 8.44.1) might be associated

with the oligarchs, see HCT V, 91; Berthold (1980) 33. So also Demand (1990) 90. HCTV, 92, cf. David (1984) 271. van Gelder (1900) 81; Kinch (1905) 42-43. Homblower

(1982)

104.

Kinch (1905) 34-48. The inscription is republished as I. Lindos 16. Kinch (1905) 45 and 39-41, respectively. Syil,’ 644-645

(d), with Rhodes with Lewis (1997) 274.

Earliest decrees of the three poleis: Kameiros: Tir Cam. 102-105, of which only 105 (first half of the fourth century, cf. Fraser [1952] 195) is tolerably well preserved; Lindos: 1. Rhod. Per. 251 (440-420 BC), Z Lindos 16 App. (before 411 BC), /G XII.1 761

(second half of fourth century);

Ialysos: [0 XIL1 677 (ca. 300 BC, or, more probably, third century). RivFw n.s. 10 (1932) 452-462, no. 2. Tiz.Cam. 3 Ac.56-57; cf. 194 and ἢ. 111 below.

I. Lindos 151.2 (ca. 197 BC), to cite one among many examples. Head, Heise. Num. 635-637; BMC Caria c-ctii, 223-229, pls. XXXIV-XXXVI; Babelon, Traité 11.1, 459-478, 11.2, 1003-1012. The statement of Kraay (1976) 35 that no coins were struck by the Rhodian poles berween 480 and 408 is now outdated: see Kagan (1987) 25-26, and Waggoner (1983) no. 644.

Meiggs-Lewis, GHI7 Harp. s.v. episkopos.

(c) Telephos, and (g) Anaxanor.

For the meanings and uses of the word poits, see Hansen (1998) 17-34, and Hansen (2000).

IG T’ 1032.93-94. The appearance of these two Rhodioi can no longer be used for dating the inscription to after 408 BC; that criterion has recently been applied by Funke (1983) esp. 168;

see also D.M. Lewis’ note in IG I’. Pugliese Carratelli (1951) 78; J. Lindos p. 1014. Morricone (1949-51) (SEG 12 360), on which see below. Tit.Cam. 105, esp. Ul. 14-16: διότι ἐν] τῶι ἱερῶι τὰς Momigliano (1936) 49-51; /.Lindos pp. 169-170.

᾿Αθάϊνας τᾶς] Λινδίας ἐστι κερίαμίς!

Cf.

Schol. Pind. Οἱ. 7 (Drachmann). Tir Cam. 4 b-d, with Fraser (1995) 89 n. 3; cf. Morelli (1959) 70, 176.

BMC Caria 227, no. 9 and pl. XXXV, 6; Babelon, Traité 11.1, cols. 474, 478. Moreover, according to a recent opinion, the so-called palmette staters (Price & Waggoner [1975] nos. 712713) date from ca. 540-530 BC and should be artributed to Ialysos. On this attribution, the “Karian” reverse of two incuse rectangles, also possessed by staters of Kameiros and the earliest series of Lindos (see Fried [1987] 7-8), were shared by all three communities at such an early date: Bresson (1981), cf. Weiss & Hurter (1998) 13-14, 25.

Cf. I. Lindos 2,

26.

See also Thuc. 57.6; 6.4.3-4, where it is noted that the original settlement was called Lindios.

27.

E.g. Diod. 20.84.5-6, 87.3-6, 93.2-5 with Gabrielsen (1997) 97-100.

28.

C XXVIII, with the editor's note.

Shortly before that, the most powerful men of Rhodos had acted in concert (Thuc. 8.44.1), but

they might have done so in a private capacity. 29.

Each of these cities appears for the last time in list no. 34 (421/20: Ialysos, paying 5 talents), list no. 39 (416/5: Kameiros,

10 talents), and list no. 40 (415/14: Lindos,

15 talents), see generally

ATL I, 290-91, 296-97, 334-35. I hope to discuss elsewhere the occurrence in the lists of four further Rhodian communities:

Λινδίον Glata: (ATL I, 360-61), Πεδιὲς ἐν Alvdor vel sim. (ibid.

370-71), Διάκριοι ἐρ ᾿Ρόδου vel sim, (ibid. 262-3), Βρικινδάριοι ép ᾿Ρόδου (ibid. 248-49, cf. 513). 30.

Hansen

31.

Hdt. 9.106.4; Thuc.

(1993)

14; Hansen

(1995a)

30-31.

1.116.2, 2.9.4. Cf. Hansen (1995a) 31 with n. 95.

THE SYNOIKIZED POLIS OF RHODOS

201

32. 33.

See Reger (1997) 473-476. ivO 151 with Moretti (1957) no. 252. See, in addition, Moretti’s nos. 287 (452 BC), 295 (448 BC) 299 (448 BC), 300 (448 BC), 322 (432 BC) 326 (432 BC), 330 (432 BC) 354 (404 BC),

34.

E.g. Lindos: JG XIL.1 841 (172 BC):

356 (404 BC).

᾿

᾿Αγησίστρατον Πολυκρέοντος νιχῶντα

᾿Ολύμπια παῖδας

πάλαν πρᾶτον Λινδίων, yet in 1. Lindos 699, Hagestratos is called ᾿Ρόδιος, cf. Moretti (1957) no.

615.

35.

So also Momigliano (1936) 51. Lindian tradition, however, naturally stressed the involvement of Lindos in the project: I. Lindos 2, B XVII, with Blinkenberg (1912) 353, 437, cf. Blinkenberg (1915)

36.

IG XIL1

.

19.

977 with Swi.’ 129, Tod, GHI 110, for the old date. The inscription is now republished

as (GT 1454 (Titub Arici extra Atticam reperti no. 2), where reference is made to M.H. Jameson's dating of the stone to the fifth century BC on the basis of a re-examination of a squeeze, cf. Lewis (1987) 58, with Meiggs (1982) 201 (offering a different explanation for the Lindian’s privilege); Osborne

(1982) s. A.2, 43-44.

38.

Accame (1938) 220ff.; I. Lindos 16 Appendix. The Lindian council is also attested as bola in a year berween 440 and 420 BC, /.Rhod. Per.

39.

Accame

251.32, 35. (1938) 220ff.; I. Lindos pp. 212-213.

Lindos: first attestation in a contemporary document: J. Lindos 190 (of ca. 170 BC). Kameiros: Ti Cam. 105 (restored); first secure attestation at Ti. Cam. 107 (from the first half of the third century; cf. no. 38.46 of ca. 223 BC). lalysos: JG ΧΠ.1 677, conventionally dated ca. 300 BC, but more probably of a third-century date. Two of the sources used in the Lindian Temple Chronicle are (a) the epistole of Gorgosthenes, priest of Athan Lindia, to the boula, and (Ὁ) the epısiole of Hieroboulos, also priest of Athana Lindia,

to the mastroi:

1, Lindos

2 (of 99

BC)

Β 1.8, εἰ passım,

with

pp.

198-200.

With

one

exception (ch. XXIX: dedications by Amasis), Gorgosthenes and Hieroboulos are cited only in the “mythical” part of the Chronicle, down to ch. XIV. In dating these priesthoods, Blinkenberg made the following assumptions: (1} the two priests served in consecutive years, (2) their episiolai

were occasioned by a serious event, (3} that event was the burning down of the temple (in ca. 342 BC), (4) the episiolai were written immediately after the disaster (in 342 and 341}, and finally (5) that, while the mastroi are those of Lindos, the boula is that of Rhodes: ibid. 162, 198-200, cf. no.

1 (under the years 342, 342), and more extensively in Blinkenberg (1912). However, even though

Blinkenberg may well be right in dating these “mémoires” to the period after the fire, he did not substantiate any of the remaining assumptions. It is at least plausible that Gorgosthenes epistole was sent to the Lindian bowla before its change of name either late in the fourth century or early in the third century. 41. 42.

Fossey (1991) esp. 36. Cf. Rhodes (1995) 105-106. Hiller von Gaertringen

(1931) 763 commented

on I. Lindos

16: “Er ist eine Beschluss eines

gesamtrhodischen, aber noch als #thnos, nicht als polis organisierten Staatswesens, wie es da aller

43.

Arkader ... war”. But that statement ignores Hdt. 2.178. It is often said, with reference to the federal and the Lindian proxeny decrees, that Lindos alone had a democratic constitution before 411 BC (e.g. Westlake [1983a] 333), but such a claim remains unsubstantiated: we know nothing about the constitutions of the three Rhodian poleis.

Meiggs (1972) 210; Moggi (1976) 220; Hornblower (1982) 104; Demand (1990) 89-94. The

45.

principle “synoikism is strength, dioikism is weakness” (Hornblower [1982] 81), while basically a valid one, overly generalizes (and simplifies} varying and often complex processes to be in possession of explanatory value. Bresson (1979) esp. 153, 156-157, cf. Papachristodoulou (1989) n. 52; Konstantinopoulos (1997) esp. 97. Hiller von

Gaertringen

(1931)

763;

Hormblower

(1982)

83-84

(where

the political and

the

phyaical aspects of synoikism are stressed) and 104. Moggi (1976) 213-226 tends not to lay much emphasis on the political and the physical aspects, while Demand (1990), see esp. 9-10, concentrates almost exclusively on physical synoikisrne.

VINCENT GABRIELSEN

202 47.

Cf. also Konon (FGrHist 26) fr. 1 (XLVIT) apud Phot. Bibl. 186.47; Strabo 14.2.9-10 (654), 1112 (655); Plin. HN 5.132; Aristid. Or. 43.552 (Dindorf) with Moggi (1976) no. 34, pp. 213-226, quoting these and remaining sources, all of which are of a later date; Demand

48. 49.

(1990) 89-94.

See Kontis (1954) and idem (1958); Konstantinopoulos (1990); Papachristodoulou (1988). The accepted date is proposed by Morricone (1949-51)

351-380

(SEG

(1959) 94. Having assigned the first priest to 408/7 on the basis of Diod.

12 360), cf. Morelli 13.75.1

(p. 364 with

n. 1), Morricone goes on to note that the 28th name in the sequence (his year 381/0: line 29) is inscribed in larger letters and hence must indicate the year in which the stele was inscribed (pp. 363-364). However, Morricone’s dating of the list is questionable for the following reasons. 1. The priest of Halios listed as no. 17 in the sequence, [Eu}kles Astyanaktida, is mentioned also in the Lindian Chronicle as the priest of Halios under whose tenure the temple of Athana Lindia

was

destroyed

by fire

(i. Lindos

2 D

1.39-41).

Blinkenberg

argues

that

the

accident

occurred ca. 342 BC, and that that is the year of the Eukies listed in the Chronicle (ibid. pp. 157158, 198-200). 2. Morricone places the Eukles recorded in the lists of the priests of Halios in 392/1 BC —

thus viewing him as an earlier homonym of the Eukles in the Chronicle - and objects to Blinkenberg’s dating of the fire. He points out that the Lindian Chronicle refers also to Pythannas Archipolios as the priest of Halios in a year in which the temple of Athana Lindia had already been repaired and provided with a new statue of Athana (1 Lindos 2 D II.61-65). The repair of the temple and the priesthood of Pythannas, Morricone goes on to argue, must date from before the year proposed by Blinkenberg (ca. 342), because fragment A of the list of the priests of

Athana Lindia, which covers the period 375-357 BC (i. Lindos 1, pp. 105-107), can only have been drawn up after the restoration of the temple. Therefore, Pythannas (and the Eukles of the Lindian Chronicle) must have been recorded in the part of the list of the priests of Halios which covers the period 356-340 BC, but which part is now not preserved (p. 376). 3. Morricone’s

arguments,

however,

are frail. First, there is no way of knowing whether

Pythannas’ name stood in the lost part of the priests of Halios. Second, and as a consequence,

there are homonym list of the destroyed

no reasons whatsoever to regard the Eukles of the Lindian Chronicle as a later of the Eukles who appears in the list of the priest of Halios. Third, fragment A of the priests of Athana Lindia cannot be made to show that the temple had already been and repaired when the list was drawn up: Blinkenberg’s view that the destruction

occurred in ca. 342 priesthood of Halios

BC remains unchallenged. Fourth, the assumption that the cult and must have been established as pan-Rhodian institutions right after the

foundation of the capital has never been formally proven: see text. 4. LGPN

I, sv. (67, 68), lists one Eukles as a priest of Halios in 392/1

and another one as

holder of that office in 342 BC. But for the reasons stated in (3) above, such a separation is unwarranted. If Blinkenberg’s date (ca. 342) for the priesthood of Eukles and the fire is accepted, as I think it should be, then the list of the priests of Halios begins not in 408/7 but in ca. 358 BC.

50.

Berthold

(1980)

34 takes Diod.

13.75.1

to mean

that work on the capital commenced

shortly

after 408/7. Moggi (1976) 220 finds it possible that the decision had been taken earlier than 408/7 but was put into effect in that year. Demand (1990) 90 and others (her note 83) think that 408/7 marks the first occupation of the new city. 51.

The older view on the earliest federal issues (BMC Caria, cili and 230; Babelon, Traité 11.2, 1017-

1018; Bérend

[1972] 5-39) is now revised by Kraay (1976) 257, and particularly by Ashton

(1993),

in addition,

who,

follows

the

view

of Karwiese

(1980)

that

the

alliance

coins

(the

Herakliskos Drakonopnigon issues with the legend ΣΥΝ) do not belong to the late 390s but to a pro-Spartan alliance in 405/4. But see the reply of Bérend (1995) 251-255. Diod. 13.75.1 too forms the basis for dating the vases awarded as winners’ prizes at the Halieia (and hence the introduction of the agonistic events themselves) in 408/7: Zervoudaki (1975). 52.

Reger (1997) 475.

53.

Marun (1985) 226-227, idem (1995) 280. Cf. Ashton (1993) 13: “I have records of 53 coins struck from no fewer than 30 obverse dies. There should be no problem about fitting them and a proportion of the early hemidrachms into five years or so after the synoicism, not least because the unified state would probably have needed large amounts of coined silver for the construction

of the new capital city (...)”. Jessop Price (1987) 44 makes the point that the issuing of federal coinage need not necessarily mean encroachment on the sovereign authority of member states.

THE SYNOIKIZED POLIS OF RHODOS

203

54.

Spier (1987) 36 with pl. VII, 18.

55.

Fraser (1977) 3, 8-9 with nn. 5, 20, 24. Papachristodoulou (1989) 94, referring (nn. 432-436)

to finds indicating that a modest settiement pre-existed within the site on which Rhodos was built. See, in particular, Dreliosi-Irakleidou (1999).

56.

Diod. 10.1.3, 12.83.1, 14.15.4, 36.4, 15.5.3, 12.1, 76.2 (cf. Strabo 14.2.10 [657], Kos), 15.94.1,

16.82.4. CE also Moggi (1976) 72 n. 12, 209 n. 2, 278, 285, 287-288, 352; Demand (1990) 910. 57.

Foreigners: e.g. [Dem.] 56.7-8, 21, 25 with [Arist.] Oec. (1997) 72-73; Diod. 20.84.4 (citizenship to slaves who fought 129, 138, estimates the population of the island to have Einwohnern”, but, besides applying to the fifth century and on questionable criteria, cf. Nixon & Price (1990) 146-147.

1352a17-1352b26, cf, Gabrielsen in 305-304). Ruschenbusch (1983) been “14,000 Birger mit 5,760 to the island only, these figures rely

58.

Konstantinopoulos (1997) 81-82.

59.

Moggi (1976) 220-221 with nn. 12-13, though he also notes that the three old cities were not completely abandoned. Even though Papachristodoulou (1989, 94) assumes a considerable emigration from the old city of Ialysos to the new capital, he admits that such a move proceeded gradually. For more cautious statements, see Hornblower (1982) 84 (“there was also a physical move, or rather, a new city was created”), and Demand (1990) 93. Fraser & Bean (1954) 95-97, for the view that most of the Karian Chersonese was incorporated territory by 408/7.

61.

Hornblower (1982) 86 (“tribal and political changes ensued on the synoikism”), 104, and especially, 84, referring to Fraser & Bean (1954) 95, who, however, do not say that the demes were introduced in 408/7. Strabo’s testimony (πρότερον μὲν οὖν καθ᾽ αὐτοὺς ἐπολιτεύοντο. μετὰ

ταῦτα δὲ συνῆλθον ἅπαντες εἰς τὴν ᾿Ρόδον, 14.2.11 [655]) has no independent value. 62.

Attestation: JG ΧΠ.1 761 = Syil? 340; I. Lindos 51. Reign of Alexander: Pugliese Carratelli (1949) 69-75. In 395: Fraser (1952) 192-206. Before 408/7, but subsequently reorganized: Papachristodoulou (1989) 65-66. See Gabrielsen (1997) 37-42; Blackman, Knoblauch & Yannikouri (1996). Hornbiower

(1982) 83.

On which see Fraser & Bean (1954) 131, cf. Hornblower (1982) 124. Hell. Oxy. 15 [Chambers]; Diod. 14.79.4-5, 7. Cf. Bruce (1961) 169-70; idem (1967) 97-10]; and more generally Berthold (1980) 32-49; Hornblower (1982) 125-7. There is no reason to regard the ekklesia in Hell. Oxy. 15.2 as the foundation of a public assembly: so Fraser (1972) 122. 67.

Diod. 14.97.1-4, 99.5 (the Rhodian polis is in revolt), to be preferred to Xen. Hell. 4.8.20-21, 25, cf. Westlake (1983b), conıra Berthold (1980) 39-41 (Xen. is more reliable), and David (1984) (the two accounts are complementary, not conflicting). The attempt of the oligarchs to overthrow the democracy (καταλῦσαι τὸν δημον), mentioned by Arist. Pal. 1302b21-25, 1304b27-31, is probably that event (Momigliano [1936] 53-54, Westlake (1983b) 246-247), not the oligarchic take-over under Mausolos (Hornblower [1982] 127).

68.

Dem. 15.3, 5 (sob ᾿Ροδίων δήμου) 14-15, 19, 27-28 (at 15.27 Rhodes is called a πόλις ᾿Ελληνίς), cf. Dem. 13.8; Theopompos (FGrHist 115) fr. 121 (one Hegesilochos established oligarchy and presumed to rule over the state, προστατεῖν τῆς πόλεως).

69.

IG IP 43.82: ᾿Ρόδιοι. Cf. Diod. 15.28.24.

70. 71.

See esp. Dem.

15.3; Diod.

16.7.3-4, 21.1-22.2, 34.1.

Dem. 5.25; 13.8; 15.3 with Homblower (1982) 124, 127-129, esp. the reference (129 n. 194) to a Rhodian tetradrachm (the Courtauld coin) of ca. 340 that indicates a Hekatomnid influence: Pollard (1968) no. 101, p. 68.

72.

Arr. Anab. 2.20.2; Diod. 18.8.1; Curt. 4.5.9, 8.12; Just. Eprr. 11.11.1;cf. Fraser (1952) 199-201; Berthold (1980) 46-49,

73.

Polyb. 27.4.7, 30.31.10.

74.

Meeting in the theatre: Polyb.

15.23.2, cf. Cic. Rep. 3.35.48. Once

a month

(?): 10 XIL1

3.1.

Debate: Polyb. 27.7.1-16, 29.11.1-6. Domestic affairs: e.g. Suppl. Epigr. Rh. 1247, no. 1; foreign policy: I./asos 150.

VINCENT GABRIELSEN

204 15. 76. 77. 78.

Cheirotonia: Polyb. 29.10.1. Officials: Bresson, RIPR 52.5-6; IGXIL.1 1035; Swi.’ 581.86-87, 9293. IG XIL1 53; ASAtene 2 (1916) 142, no. 11; I. Lindos 4208.3-4, b.7-8; 707.8. Tu. Cam. 109, cf. I Lindos Index 1.8, s.v. mastroi. Polyb. 13.5.1, 16.15.8, 29.10.4; SI.’ 581.91; AM 20 (1895) 382, no. 2.12, 386, no. 5.1.

79.

Prytaneion: Polyb. 15.23.3; IG XIL.1 85.1 (restored). Chairman and term of service: Polyb. 15.23.4, 22.5.10, 27.3.3, 27.7.2, 13; App. B Cte 4.66, 282; Diod. 20.88.3, 98.7; Strabo 7.5.8 (316); Syll.’ 644-45.5; I. Magnena 55.18.

80.

Polyb. 22.5.10, 27.7.2-13. Polyb. 29.10.4, with Rhodes with Lewis (1997) 273.

81. 82.

83.

84.

85.

Β6. 87.

RivFid n.s. 10 (1932) 452-461, no. 2; CIRh 2 (1932) 169, no. 1; Swi.* 644-645.8, 581.2; IG ΧΠ.Ὶ 3; Suppl Epigr. Rh. 1247, no. 1.2 with Gabrielsen (1997) 161 a. 80, cf. Rhodes with Lewis (1997) 265-268. 1.Iasos 150 (decrees II and I); Z Magnesia 55; CIRh 2 (1932) 170, no. 2; JG ΧΠ.1 2, 890.39. Cf. Rhodes with Lewis (1997) 273: “there is no reason to think that the different formulae correspond τὸ different procedures.” People’s courts: [Dem.] 56.47, cf. Arist. Pol. 1304b29-30; [Sall.] Ad Caes. sen. 2.7.12. The office of κλαρωτὰς . τῶν δικαστᾶν: JG XIL1 55.3; ASAtene ns. 1-2 (1939-40) 151, no. 7.8; NSiif no.18.7 (all from the first century BC). For the six bronze plaques, interpreted as dikastic pinakia, see Gabrielsen (1997) 28 with n. 54. IG XH.1 833; I. Lindos 312, 315; Suppl. Epigr. Rh. 1256, no. 5.38 (ἐπιλαχὼν ἱερεὺς ᾿Αλίου). Syl.’ 723, esp. line 16 (éd où ἔλαχε) extends the application of this procedure to all priesthoods, cf. Fraser (1972) 121 n. 56. State pay: Arist. Pol. 1304b27-28; Cic. Rep. 3.35.48; Dio Chrys. Or. 31.102, cf. Ste. Croix (1975) 48-52; Gabrielsen (1997) 28 with n. 57. “Unsalaried” officials: e.g. I. Rhod Per. 782.4. i. Lindos 247.28 (121 BC), 349.45-49 (both urban and political), 347.56, 123, cf. I. Lindos p. 21. For pois (Lindos) in the political sense, see also Tir Cam. 89.9; IG XII. 1 58.21

(honors awarded

ὑπὸ ἀμφοτέρων [πμήλιων] _ Λινδίων καὶ ᾿Ιαλυσίων), 840.9; 1 Rhod Per. 352A.12, 354A.11 with Gabrielsen (1997) 161 n. 76. Polis (Lindos) in the urban sense: e.g. J. Lindos 249.9, 264.15, 300a.5-6, 419.26, and [G XII.1

88. 89.

762A.19,

all referring to οἱ κατοικεῦντες ἐν Λινδίαι

πόλει καὶ

γεωργεῦντες ἐν τῶι Λινδίαι (sc. the Lindian χώρα). IG XII.1 677 = Syll.’ 338, cf. Papachristodoulou (1989) 153, no. 1 with bibliography. Cf. I. Lindos 441.4.6 (οἱ ἱερεῖς οἱ ἐν ᾿Αχαῖαι πόλει ᾿Ιαλυσίων), 482 (τᾶς ᾿Αθάνας τὰς ἐν ᾿Αχαΐαι πόλει) with Blinkenberg ad loc.; IG X11.1 786.5 (᾿Αθάνα ᾿Ιαλυσία Πολιάς); Diod. 5.57.6 (who,

following Zenon of Rhodos, says ἐν τῇ Ιαλυσίᾳ κτίσαντες πόλιν ‘ Ayala); Strabo 14.2.12 (655): elt? ᾿Ιαλυσὸς κώμη, καὶ ὑπὲρ αὐτὴν ἀκρόπολίς ἐστιν ᾿Οχύρωμα καλουμένη. εἶτ᾽ ἡ τῶν ᾿Ροδίων πόλις

(sc. city of Rhodos) ἐν ὀγδοήκοντά που σταδίοις. 90.

16 ΧΠ.1

91.

Woodhead (1948) with text at 54, cf. now Walbank (1978) 376ff., πο. 72, and Agora 16, no. 37. L. Robert’s objections, esp. his view that the ethnic in 1]. 3, 6 refers back to the earlier grant of proxenia to the father of the honorand (BE [1949] no. 42, accepted by Moggi (1976) 225 n. 23, and

58.21.

Funke

[1983]

172ff.), are not decisive. On

the other hand, the decree does not warrant

Woodhead’s statement (p. 57) that “the Ialysians were able to act on their own initiative in

foreign affairs”. 92.

Koina polis: I. Lindos 384b.13-14. Megala polis: ibid. nos. 465e.10, £.7-8, g.8, 486.6; 16 XII.1 832.14, 839.25.

To asty: L. Lindos

135, cf. Index 19, s.v., and JG XIL1

810.2 (restored), 824.6,

833.7. 93.

Talysos: 1

XIL.1

677. Kameiros:

Tir Cam.

71.8,

106. Lindos:

1. Lindos nos. 419.8, 478,7; IG

XII. 1 840.3. 94.

Ktoinaï: Gabrielsen (1997) 151-154. Demes: Papachristodoulou (1989) 56-69, and idem (1999).

95. 96.

i. Lindos pp. 95-96; Fraser (1953). I. Rhod. Per. 352.12, 354.11 (κώλυμα πόλιος), on which see Gabrielsen (1997) probably refers to Lindos), contra Fraser & Bean (1954)

97.

Tu. Cam. 109.4-5.

14-16,

161 n. 76 (polis

18 (polis refers to Rhodes).

THE SYNOIKIZED POLIS OF RHODOS

205

Ekklesia is attested for Lindos (J. Lindos 419.48) and Kameiros (Tir Cam. 105.26-27), but not for

lalysos. For the darmourgoi, see Gabrielsen (1997) 29. Mastreion of Lindos: 1 Lindos 419.25. Annual tenure is implied at ibid. no. 420a.6-9. . E.g. 10 XIL.1 761.1-2, 50; 1. Lindos 190, 419.101, and p. 25. . Laws of Lindos: /G XII.1 761.41, cf. 762A. 14, referring to old Lindian custom; Kontorini (1989) no. 1.9-11. Laws of Iatysos: 7G ΧΠ.1 677.19ff.

. E.g. JG XIL1 761 (Lindos); Ti: Cam. 105 (Kameiros, though ibid. 109 has only ἔδοξε Καμειρεῦσι); JG ΧΠ.1 677 = Syl.’ 338 (lalysos).

. . . . .

Tit. Cam. 109, esp. Il. 13-15. Δ Lindos 346.84-146. See Gabrielsen (1997) 30, 151-154. Momigliano (1936) 57-60; cf. Pugliese Carratelli (1949) and Fraser (1952). Momigliano (1936) 59, too, mentioned that possibility, though he did not explore it further. A difficulty, however, is the formula of ΤΙΣ Cam. 105 (from the first half of the fourth century} which has been restored to contain the name of the mastroi.

. IG XIL.1 761 = Sy.’ 340.

. Momigliano (1936) 61; Gabrielsen (1997) 132. . Syl 723 = LSCG no. 138; cf. Morelli (1959) 5-16; Robert (1959) 192-193, 200-201. . Ti. Cam, 3 Ac.56-57 with L Lindos commentary on no. 151.2, and Fraser (1953) 39 and n. 25, contra Pugliese Carratelli (1949) 60 n. 4, (1956) 73, and commentary on Ti Cam. ad loc. (“from among all Kameirans”).

. IG XIL.1 762 = LSCG 137. . Tir. Cam. 110.36-40 with Gabrielsen (1997) 134-135. . Rhodes (1995) 100, 102; Rhodes with Lewis (1997) 475-478, esp. 477. See Hansen (1995a)

38-39; Hansen (1997). See also Hansen

(1995b).

Private Needs and Polzs Acceptance. Purification at Selinous

WALTER BURKERT

The lead tablet from Selinous, published by Jameson, Jordan, & Kotansky in

1993 and dated to about 460 BC,’ is remarkable in many respects: in a dialect and orthography hardly known before, it presents one of the oldest Greek leges sacrae we have, full of unique details for early Greek ritual. The tablet was found

through

illegal

excavations,

no

doubt

with

metal

detectors,

most

probably in the sands around the Malophoros sanctuary, and sold to the Paul Getty Museum

at Malibu.

Its provenance

is proved

beyond

doubt by the

reference to the “Milichios of Mysqos” (A 9) -- the Milichios stele of Mysqos from Selinous had been in the Palermo Museum for a long time.’ In consequence, the tablet has been given back to Italy recently, but thanks to its international Odyssey it has been provided with an excellent and uncommonly prompt edition. Only one part of the inscription, termed B

by the editors, will be in focus

here. It clearly deals with purification. Most interpreters understand that the central rite is concerned (ργέκτας

(B 9). This

with a murderer,

has been

called with the new

vigorously contested

in a recent

word

avto-

article by

Alessandro Giuliani.’ His suggestion, however, that the “self-doer” should have

committed some more general polluting act is hardly convincing. The problems raised by Giuliani still lead to more general perspectives and questions about the interaction of private cult and pos cult, to be discussed in this essay

as a fitting tribute to the great expert on the Greek polis, Mogens Hansen. To start with a translation, the details of which will be justified in what follows:

“If a man wishes to get purified against the ghost of a [man], he shall make a proclamation wherever he wishes and whenever in the year he wishes

and

in whatever

[month]

he wishes

and

on whatever

day he

wishes; having made the proclamation whichsoever he wishes, let him get purified. And the man who receives him shall give to him (water) to wash with, and something for breakfast, and salt to the same; and when he has

sacrificed to Zeus a piglet from his own, he shall go, and he shall look

208

WALTER BURKERT

around, and he shall be addressed, and he shall take food, and he shall sleep wherever he wishes. And if anyone wishes to get purified against a

foreign ghost or a family ghost, a ghost who has been heard or has been seen, or anyone at all, he shall get purified in the same way as the murderer. When he has been purified from the ghost, he shall sacrifice a full-

grown victim on the public altar, and thus he shall be clean: Having marked a boundary and performed aspersion with salt and gold, he shall

go away. When he needs (wishes) to sacrifice to the ghost, (he shall) sacrifice as to the immortal gods, but slaughter (the victim to let the blood flow)

towards the earth.” No question: the central topic is purification. The term is &noxadaipeodaı (B 1, B

9),

καθαίρεσθαι

(B

3,

B

8bis);

καθαρὸς

ἔστω

(B

10f).

The

verbal

construction though seems to change: in B 8 we undoubtedly get accusative (xövrıve), in B 9 genitive (ἐλαστέρο); EAAZTEPON in line 1 is ambiguous, accusative singular or genitive plural; since we get clear singular forms in B 9 (éAnotépo) and B 12 (ἐλαστέροι [dative]}, we should understand singular in B 1 too; this means that the change between accusative and genitive follows the verbal

aspect:

direct

object

with

the

imperfective

aspect

(present

stem),

ἀποκαθαίρεσθαι éAdotepov, separative with the perfective aspect (aorist stem),

tiaotépo ἀποχαθάρασθαι. The change of aspect proves that there must be punctuation after houtopéxtac in B 9.* The agent of pollution is called ἐλάστερος. As this being may receive a kind of chthonian sacrifice (B 12f.), without being an immortal god, we are dealing with a kind of demon or ghost. The word had hardly been attested before, but for a Zeus Elasteros at Paros, who appears as Zeus Alastoros at Thasos.* The

word ἀλάστωρ occurs repeatedly in Aischylos’ Oresteia, elsewhere in tragedy, and in Antiphon’s speeches on murder cases. There can hardly be any doubt that both

words

etymologies; ἀρρηφόροι

one

are equivalent may

compare

— ἐρρηφόροι

though

the word

even

the variant

spelling

right at Athens.*

ἄλαστος, “unconcealable”, choros,

in meaning,

᾿Αλάστωρ

if they suggest and

etymologizing

seems

connected

“unforgettable”, attested in Homer formation

is strange.

different

Lexica

of

with

and in Stesi-

also attest the word

ἀλάστορος for Aischylos’ Jxten, a play in which purification of murder played a central role, as the Eumenides recall;’ ἀλάστορος has also been introduced by

conjecture in Eumenides 236.° 'EAdotepoc, on the other hand, clearly belongs to ἐλᾶνιἐλαύνειν, which is used in connection with evil ghosts and pollution all

the time: ἄγος ἐλαύνειν occurs in a Delphic oracle, quoted by Thucydides.’

PRIVATE NEEDS AND POLIS ACCEPTANCE

209

The editors also point out the existence of a verb éAaotpeiv, evidently close to ἐλάστερος. I assume the -tepog-composition should mark an opposition, as in θηλύτεραι γυναῖκες and Ἄρτεμις &ypotépa; the opposite would be ἱκέσιος or προστρόπαιος, the “haunting” spirit; ἱκέσιος occurs in this sense in the cathartic

law of Kyrene, which has important parallels with the new text." The opposition ἱκέσιος — ἐλάστερος in fact appears at the divine level: Ζεὺς ᾿Ικέσιος

καὶ ᾿Αλάστορος occurs in Pherekydes (FGrHist 3) fr. 175. There are ghosts who “reach” a house or a person (ixéo1o1) and “cling to these” (προστρόπαιοι), but they should become “those who, in turn, are driven away”, ἐλάστεροι.

The guess that αὐτορρέκτας means “killer” or “murderer” lies close at hand. We

do find synonyma

such as αὐτόχειρ, adtoddvoc,

αὐθέντης, αὐτουργός in

common use.'’ One may also recall Homer: ὃς μέγα ἔργον ἔρεξεν aidpetnion νόοιο, κτείνας ... (Od. 11.272). And if αὐτό-, “by himself”, presupposes an opposition, a concept such as “through somebody else” is implied; this is a notorious concept in cases of homicide, where legislation soon began to distinguish between “doer” and “planner” (φόνος ἐκ βουλεύσεως). Giuliani (1998)

78 insists on a general meaning,

“colui che ha materialmente/ per-

sonalmente compiuto l’azione”, which, of course, is possible. The lex sacra of Kyrene

has

the

concept

of “causing

pollution

by

one’s

own

will”,

ἑκὼν

μιαίνειν, in opposition, as it seems, to accidental pollution.'? The system of context does not give decisive help. The case of the αὐτο-

ppéxtag is compared and thus separated from other cases, the ξενικός or the ratpörog ἐλάστερος, or “anyone at all”. The easiest way to make sense of this is to understand ξενικός in the sense of ἐπακτός, “sent from without” by magic, as it is found

in the Kyrene

inscription, in Euripides’ Hippolytos and

else-

where,!” and πατρῶιος (our spelling) as “within the family”: there are certain

families afflicted by “ancient wrath”, as Plato has it (PAdr. 244de). Kiytaimestra, for one, has experienced the “demon of the Pleisthenids” and wishes to exorcise him by an “oath” and sacrifices (Aesch. Ag.

1569-1576).

Such

demons may have different origins; they manifest themselves, they “can be heard” or, in rarer cases, “seen”; they are a nuisance anyhow. A “hair-raising dream-prophet” gave a terrorizing shriek at night in Klytaimestra’s palace — or

was it the queen herself who shrieked?'* Yet this does not clarify what the avtoppéxtag has done to mobilize an ἐλάστερος. The beginning of the decree may have given the indication, but the first line

is badly damaged: ἄνθροπος can be read with some confidence, ai x’ ἄνθροπος makes a plausible beginning; but the next word can only be guessed. The writing is irregular, we cannot be sure about the number of letters. af x’ ἄνθροπος

avtopéxtac has been proposed.'* I would favour al x’ ἄνθροπος ἀνθρόπο ἐλάστερον ... , to which φόνωι φόνον in the purification ritual would correspond.“ἢ

210

WALTER BURKERT

Decisive clarification does, however, come from the taboos connected with

his ritual, and mentioned in the text: after the performance of a pig sacrifice “he shall look around, and he shall be addressed, and he shall take food (for himself), and he shall sleep wherever he wishes.” This means that before, in the state of pollution, it was not allowed to speak to the man,

he was not

allowed to take part in normal meals nor to sleep in a normal place. These are exactly the taboos which occur in the context of a murderer’s pollution, and

only there. The mythical example par excellence is Orestes. It is in the stories surrounding

his wanderings,

and

in Aischylos’

Eumentdes,

that

these

are

developed. Aischylos has Orestes say (448-452): “It is the law that he who is impure must not speak, until, with the help of a man, slaughter of purifying blood

will immerge him in blood, of 8 suckling animal. Long since, at other houses, have I thus been sanctified both by animals and by flowing streams.”

This describes the well-known ritual, slaughter of a piglet to let the blood flow over the polluted murderer, and to wash it off in consequence. But most striking is the injunction of silence which precedes purification. It already seems to be implied in the strange Homeric simile about a killer who suddenly, without preliminaries, appears in the midst of a house as ἱκέτης.7 It also gave

rise to the legend of the Attic Choes festival: silence is required during the

drinking contest, because, they say, polluted Orestes was present.'* Nor could Orestes dine with the others: at Athens each got a separate table for the meal;

at Troizen a special “hut” was constructed where to dine with Orestes.'® The taboo “not to turn around” is attested in a somewhat different context of purifications: the Choephoro: mention the “sending out” residues of purification,

throwing the vessel backwards, without looking back.” One may also mention the

Pythagorean

rule

“not

to tum

round”

when

leaving

home,

“because

Erinyes are walking behind”.*' After purification, Erinyes have disappeared. The injunction not to speak is in contrast to the repeated “promulgation” (προειπόν B 2-35is) required in the Selinountian text for the beginning of the ceremony. There are two ways to solve the contradiction: either προειπεῖν is

not considered a dialogue in the sense of notayopév, or the taboo period begins only with this act: a state of impurity must be declared; it may get unnoticed by those involved for some time. Even the oracle can take the lead for such declaration: the god gives his order “because, he said, what they had done was

agos”.” If we are to use the Orestes example and parallel stories about purification from murder, the sacrifice of the piglet falls into place; it is mentioned in the

PRIVATE NEEDS AND POLIS ACCEPTANCE

text of Aischylos, it was possibly produced

211

on stage, as a well-known vase

painting — dated about 60 years after the original production of the play --

suggests.”’ A fragment from an Attic sacred law, from the “ancestral laws of Eupatridai”,

on

“purification

of ἱκέται"

gives

further

illustration

of such

proceedings -- although this need not be identical in all details with what is

done at Selinous: “then wash yourself and the others too who share eating the entrails; take water and purify (the applicant); wash the water off the man who is being purified, and afterwards stir the dirty water and pour it into the same

gap.”** It shows that sacrifice is going on, including eating of splanchna and probably terminated with a real dinner. Thus we must not be puzzled if the Selinous text just says “sacrificing a piglet to Zeus”; purification with blood

and washing can well go hand in hand with this, or rather follow the first eating of entrails. One basic question in any sacrifice is who is to pay for it. I assume ἐξ αὐτὸ (B 5) to answer this for Selinous: the purificand himself.” This brings in the question of his helper. In all the stories about purification from murder there is somebody who “accepts” the fugitive. We have the story in Herodotos

(1.35.1)

how

a certain

Adrestos

came

to Kroisos

and

was

accepted and purified by him; the act of “accepting” also played a decisive role in Aischylos’

Ixion.*° In the Eumenides,

first Apollo,

then Athena

are the

“receivers”: “Here I come: accept willingly the alastor(os)”, Orestes prays at

Athens.”’ Hence (ho hu}rodexdpevog or rather [ho}rodexdpevoc must be supplied in line B 3/4, or, in krasis with καὶ, [yo]nodexdpevoc. The editors assume that the purificand himself will call the ghosts to dinner, as in one of the rituals from Kyrene.”* Yet what follows the “reception” is not a decent meal, but the very minimum of hospitality: salt, and a little bit of wine for a frugal breakfast.

Here too the question “who pays what” seems to lurk in the background. Still the applicant needs water -- a rare commodity in Greece; one always takes water when proceeding to a place of sacrifice. We may figure out the “receiver” putting up three vessels for his “accepted” guest, with salt, wine, and water. We

shall be surprised by the last clause of the /ex sacra: the purified man

might feel the “need” or “wish” (χρήζει) to sacrifice to the ghost. Good to be rid of him,

we

might

think,

farewell

forever.

Real

life, however,

is more

complicated. Even in the New Testament ghosts cannot be annihilated, they may come back (Ev. Matth. 12.44). There are recidivists in any psychotherapy. Thus there may be a “need” for permanent regulations, be it a family ghost or whatever. This can be illustrated from Aischylos once more: Klytaimnestra, becoming

insecure about her own

deed, suggests

(1568-1573)

“to make

a

sworn contract with the demon of the house of Pleisthenes, that we shall be content with what is done, hard to endure though it be, and that henceforth he (sc. the demon)

shall leave this habitation and bring tribulation upon some

212

WALTER BURKERT

other family by murderous deaths.” The “sworn contract” would be a sacrificial festival “for the demon” that would make him keep away in future, perhaps

still claiming

regular

contributions.

This

may

still guarantee

an

undisturbed, though precarious existence. We also perceive that the end wrought by Aischylos for his Eumenides is following the same route: the Erinyes cannot be annihilated nor definitely chased off, they are integrated into the pos through sacrificial cult. With the last paragraph we are back to a private “wish” or “need”. In between, there is the polis aspect. After the private ceremony the polis is to take notice of the event: “full sacrifice” is required, “at the public altar”;?° this also means an opulent meal for any partners, the priests or servants of the public sanctuary, and no doubt the “receiver”. We may wonder if the city of Selinous, which is famous today for the relics of seven monumental temples, should have just one “public altar”, but there is no further clarification in the text. Anyhow,

this finally means full integration.

A “boundary” is marked, and “aspersion”

is performed “with salt and gold”: that salt and gold go together, is shown by a Pythagorean rule: “if blood has been shed in a sanctuary involuntarily, per-

form aspersion either with gold or with seawater, establishing the value of everything with the first that has come into being, and with the most beautiful

of all ...”* This paragraph is valid for every case of purification mentioned before. All

the more it is clear that the first paragraphs are about private acts — the pig is not to be sacrificed at the “public altar” -- motivated by private “needs”. This is especially clear in the first sentence, where the “wish” of the applicant is mentioned

six times; the same kind of “wish” recurs when

parallel to that of the avtoppéxtac, are introduced (B 7). We

the other cases, may speculate

about the background of such a liberal regulation. It obviously would contradict special claims of sanctuaries, priests, or professional purifiers with their appropriate calendars and festivals. Not even a charismatic specialist is needed

at Selinous: any citizen can perform κάθαρσις. This seems to be implied in Homer

and

Herodotos,

too; at Athens,

by contrast, the eupatridai enjoy a

special privilege.

It is here that Giuliani takes his start to argue that such wishful proceedings cannot concern murder in a Greek city, and that hence abtoppéxtag has to be understood

in another sense.

It is impossible

indeed that a man

who

has

murdered a man at Selinous should be purified according to his “wish”, at a date to be determined by himself. Even at the fringes of the Greek world, a

polis should take much more definite measures against crime by then. What is described in our text is not state procedure.

PRIVATE NEEDS AND POLIS ACCEPTANCE

213

I still think we must make a basic distinction: cities are concerned about murder within their own territory, most of all about their own citizens; they

hardly take account of what has happened elsewhere. The simplest consequence of murder, found already in Homer and in many of the foundation legends of the colonial epoch, would be that the killer has to leave his city, with a chance to find a new life elsewhere. Cities per se, on the other hand, do not

systematically care about pollution: no word about pollution and purification in the extant fragment of Drakon’s law on homicide.’' The problem of pollution becomes critical on special occasions; it has to be “declared” (n. 22). It is easy to understand why a person should wish to get rid of a family

ghost, or a ghost sent from somewhere else through black magic; but no doubt “purification” of a ghost avenging some act of killing would be highly desirable, too. Not only uncanny feelings, but some disastrous events will indicate the

“wrath” (menis) working on an individual or his family.” Any person “afflicted by disaster”, συμφορῇ ἐχόμενος in the words of Herodotos

(1.35.1), will try

purification. Seen from the individual’s experience it is not so much “guilt” that is at issue,

but

“sufferings”.

troubles through Orestes

Plato

(Phdr.

244de)

refers

to healings

“telestic” rites. A sanctuary near Megalopolis,

by legend,

is called maniai and

ake,

“outbursts

from

such

linked to

of madness”

and

“healings” (Paus. 8.34.1-3): this legend, as others about Orestes, insists on the

success of purification.

Orestes, the famous

avtoppéxtac whose

deed was

known to all, was suffering from a kind of sickness, which however came to its

end. Hence the cult of “healings” at that place. That crime should be a sickness has an uncannily modern ring; but it is implied in legends of this kind. But the psychological is inseparable from the social status. If a murderer appears at another place and is “purified” there, this is not just superstition nor

psychotherapy, but an act of social recognition. A stranger appears potentially dangerous. The idea that pollution might bring disaster upon all those who have contacts with its bearer may also be understocd as a form of xenophobia; such xenophobia is deleted by purification ritual: henceforth there is “togetherness without damage”, ἀβλαβὴς συνουσία (Aesch. Eum. 285; cf. 474). One might surmise that in an Archaic setting the qualification of being a “killer” could even give special prestige to a person, above that of ordinary and innocuous people;” but this is a special question. To recall once more the story

of Kroisos and Adrestos (Hdt. 1.35): Adrestos has killed a man in Phrygia, he comes to Kroisos, he is purified, he stays and becomes a close friend of the king -- though his misfortune, in this case, was to continue and led to further

bloodshed.

Anyhow

we can understand

how

this may become

an urgent

“wish” of a stranger: to get full recognition among established citizens of a polis

214

WALTER

BURKERT

through “purification”. Of course this has to be arranged with a premeditated schedule, and with sufficient funds for the dual sacrifice.

Christiane Sourvinou-Inwood has stated that Greek religion was basically operated through the polis.”* This needs qualification. We may even be too much impressed by the classical works of Nilsson and Deubner on Greek public festivals. There always was, and remained, a basic stratum of private activities interacting with the public

sector.

Social pressures

met

with in-

dividual “needs”, some of which might have to do with afflictions purportedly wrought by demons. Polts religion means that even private actions are presumed to get public recognition. Take as an example what Xenophon says to defend Sokrates: “He was seen sacrificing, often at home,

often also on the

common altars of the city”:”” θύων φανερὸς ἦν — this does not refer to the fact that he attended public festivals and got some portion of meat, but that from

time to time he performed private sacrificial ceremonies, inviting guests, no doubt, which could take place either at home or at the “common

altars” - an

interesting parallel to the use of the “public altar” in the Selinountian law. Even

private religious activity was

noticeable,

and was

meant

to be so. A

private family festival of Apatouria became “noticed” as the concluding sacrifice was performed at the wrong date.” Marriage was a family affair, but the προτέλεια sacrifice was equivalent to a public announcement.” If the “man of petty ambition” (μικροφιλότιμος) takes his son to Delphi for a ceremonial hair-

cut,’ the family rite becomes ridiculously pompous by this implementation, but it follows the pattern: public notice for private ntual. There has been a personal

decision,

and

there

is private

financing,

but

the

place

and

the

performance are public. It would be similar at the Ara Maxima at Rome.

The Selinountian law goes beyond the normal interplay of private and public ritual by formally insisting on the ceremony at “the public altar”. This is of special interest, though by lack of background information we cannot be sure what is the point of this regulation. It could be directed against the spread of secret mysteries with their charismatics and their promises of “delivery” (Iysıs) from all kinds of evil.” Empedokles, the charismatic purifier, came to Selinous to perform some very special feats, we are told.* But this would have occurred

somewhat later than our inscription has been dated; we should not indulge in speculative combinations.

PRIVATE NEEDS AND POLIS ACCEPTANCE

215

BIBLIOGRAPHY Blickman, D.R. 1986. “The Myth of Ixion and Pollution for Homicide in Archaic Greece,”

CF 3: Brulé, P. Burkert, Burkert, Burkert, Burkert, Burkert,

193-208 1987. La W. 1966. W. 1983. W. 1987. W. 1992. W. 1996.

fille d'Athènes (Paris). “Kekropidensage und Arrhephoria,” Hermes 94: 1-25. Homo Necans (Berkeley). Ancient Mystery Cults (Cambridge, Mass.). The Orientalizing Revolution (Cambridge, Mass.}. Creation of the Sacred (Cambridge, Mass.).

Burkert, W. 1999. “Von Selinus zu Aischylos. ‘Reinigung’ im Ritual und im Theater,” Ber-

lin-Brandenburgische Akademie d. Wissenschaften. Berichte u. Abhandlungen 7: 23-38. Clinton, K. 1996. “A new Lex Sacra from Selinus: Kindly Zeus, Eumenides, Impure and Pure Tritopatores, and Elasteroi,” CP 91: 159-179. Dubois, L. 1995, “Une nouvelle inscription archaïque de Selinonte,” RevPhil 69: 127-144. Giuliani, A. 1998, “La purificazione dagli EAAZTEPOI nella legge sacra di Selinunte,” Aevum 72: 69-89. Jameson, M.H., Jordan, D.R., & Kotansky, R.D. 1993. A Lex Sacra from Selinous, GRBS Monographs 11 (Durham, North Carolina). Knoepfler, D. 1993. Les imagiers de l’Orestie (Kilchberg and Zürich). Parker, R 1983. Miasma. Pollurion and Purification in Early Greek Religion (Oxford). Richardson, N.J. 1993. The tad. A Commentary VI (Cambridge). Sokolowski, F. 1962. Lots sacrées des cttés grecques, Supplément (Paris). Sourvinou-Inwood, C. 1990. “What is Polis Religion?” in O. Murray & 5. Price (eds.), The Greek City from Homer τὸ Alexander (Oxford) 295-322. Stroud, RS. 1968. Drakon’s Law on Homicide (Berkeley).

NOTES 1.

Jameson, Jordan & Kotansky

(1993), quoted henceforth as edizors; reviews by G. Manganaro,

Gnomon 69 (1997) 562-564; Dubois (1995); and Clinton (1996). See also Burkert (1999). 2.

See editors 7; 28f.

3.

Giuliani (1998).

4

The

editors’ translation “as the ... (homicide)

does when

he is purified”

(= while he is being

purified) is impossible in view of the perfective (aorist) aspect. The vacant space at the end of B 9 does not indicate punctuation, cf. the similar vacar at the end of B 5 in the midst of current text.

5. . 7.

See editors 116-120. See Burkert (1966) 5f.; 17; Brulé (1987) 79-82. Aesch. fr. 92a (Radt); cf. ὅτ. 89-93 (Radt); Eum. 441: σεμνὸς προσίκτωρ ἐν τρόποις ᾿ἰξίονος; Eur.

718. Aischylos probably understood ‘lé{wv, cf. Etym. Magn. s.v.: ἀπὸ τοῦ Ixw _ HISION on the Basel vase (HC 541), E. Simon Würzburger Jahrbücher N.F. 1 (1975) 177-186, LIMC IT (1986) Bia et Kratos nr. 1, V (1990) s.v. Ixion nr. 2. See also Blickman (1986).

8.

Orestes addressing Athena: δέχου δὲ πρευμενῶς ἀλάστορα: ἁλάστορον (Nauck).

9.

Thuc. 1.126-128; cf. 2.13.

10.

Sokolowsk (1962) (henceforth LSS)

115, fourth century BC, but probably much older as to the

contents; see Parker (1983) 332-351; Burkert (1992) 68-73; the text from Kyrene is used as an important parallel by editors, Clinton (1996), and Giuliani (1998).

11.

See editors 44f.; 54. [take αὐθέντης < ᾿αὐτοθέντης (haplology); Aischylos definitely has the word in this sense; see also Parker (1983) 122; the change of meaning to “authentic”, equivalent to

WALTER

216

12.

BURKERT

αὐτοκράτωρ, is late Hellenistic. LSS 115 À 40 f, B 5; 7.

13,

LSS 115 B 29; Eur. Hipp. 318; Theophr. Char. 16.7: The superstitious man “purifies” his house again and again, believing there has been an ἐπαγωγή of Hekate.

14.

Aesch. Cha. 32-35. We know his source, Stesichorus 219 (Page), who clearly spoke of a dream. There was rumour at Athens that Hipponikos was tending a demon, ἀλιτήριος, who manifested

himself by overthrowing the table (Andoc. 1.130). 15.

Cf. Giuliani (1998) 81.42.

16.

Eur. 77. 1223, cf. Aesch. Eum. 449f.

IT.

fl. 24.480-482, See Richardson (1993) ad loc. The surprise is best understood if the exiled murderer slips in without speaking, to “reach” the vital center and thus to become ἱχέτης.

18.

Burkert (1983) 221f.

19.

Paus. 2.31.8, cf. 4.

20.

Aesch. Cho, 98f. καθάρμαθ' ὥς τις ἐκκέμψας πάλιν διχοῦσα τεῦχος ἀστρόφοισιν ὄμμασιν (cf. schol. 98a).

21.

"Epivies yap μετέρχονται Hippolytus, Refutano omnium hasresium 6.26; lambl. Promepticus Ὁ. 115.1.

22.

Thuc. 1.134.4, after the death of Pausanias at Sparta.

23.

Apulian bell crater Louvre K 710, LIMC VII (1994) s.v. Orestes nr. 48; Knoepfler (1993) 73f. pl. XVHI.

24.

= (FGrHis 356) fr. 1 = Ath. 409F: ἔπειτα ἀπονιψάμενος αὐτὸς καὶ οἱ ἄλλοι ol σπλαγχνεύοντες, ὕδωρ λαβὼν κάθαιρε; ἀπόνιζε τὸ αἷμα τοῦ καθαιρομένου, καὶ μετὰ τὸ ἀπόνιμμα ἀνακινήσας εἰς ταὐτὸ

ἔγχες. “Non intellego” (Kaibel), which shows our problems even with Artic texts of this kind. The reference of εἰς ταὐτό (some βόθρος) is lost in the fragment we have got; adverbial μετά, “thereafter”, is well attested in Herodotos. 25.

With different segmentation “let him go out from it” editors.

26.

See n. 7.

27.

Aesch. Eum. 236, seen. 8.

28. 29.

LSS 115 B 36, cf. Burkert (1992) 698. For the concept of δαμόσιον in fifth-century Sicily, cf. the inscription on the herold’s staff from Syracuse, SEG 38 368; BE 1990 nr. 160. - ol κοινοὶ τῆς πόλεως βωμοί: Ken. Mem. 1.1.2, cf. ἃ. 35.

30.

lambl. VP 153 ἐν ἱερῷ ἄν τι ἀκούσιον αἷμα γένηται, ἢ χρυσῷ ἢ θαλάττῃ περιρραίνεσθαι, τῷ πρώτῳ γενομένῳ καὶ τῷ. καλλίστῳ τῶν ὄντων σταθμωμένῳ (read σταθμώμενος}) τὴν τιμὴν τῶν ἀπάντων. The editors refer to this passage (45) without quoting it. They translate “Having marked a boundary with salt and having performed aspersion with a golden (vessel)”. Θάλαττα and χρυσίον also appear together in the (fragmentary) parody of a ntual song in Menander, Theophoroumene fr. dub. p. 146 ed. Sandbach (Oxford 19907), See Stroud (1968). The law code of Gortyn is not about homicide at all.

31. 32. 33.

See e.g. Hdt. 7.134-137 on the ments of Taithybios at Sparta, or the story of Paraibios in Ap. Rhod. 2.463-489. Burkert (1996) 11.

34.

Sourvinou-Inwood (1990) 322: “(that) ... the polis provided the fundamental, basic framework in which Greek religion operated, that the polis anchored and legitimated, and mediated, all

35. 36.

Xen. Mem. 1.1.2. Eudemus fr. 84 (Wehrli).

religious activity.”

37.

Cf. Eur. ZA. 433; 718. Burkert (1983) 62f.

38.

Theophr.

39. 40.

Cf. Burkert (1987) 12-24. Diog. Laert. 8.70 (=Diels-Kranz 31 A 1).

Char. 21,3.

An Altar for Herakles

MICHAEL H. JAMESON

Reconsideration of the inscription on a broken altar, found in the Agora ex-

cavations in Athens, removes an unparalleled sacrificial reference and casts light on the activity of Athenian gennetai in the fourth century BC.' The text, on the upper left corner of a small, marble altar (Agora I 1052), was published by B.D. Meritt (1938) 92-93, no. 12. Height, 0.33m; width at top, at abacus crowning the altar, 0.20m, at line 8, 0.18m; thickness (at top), 0.386m, (through the base) 0.30m. Height of letters (lines 1-3, on the abacus), 0.012m, (lines 4ff.), ca. 0.008m. The letters are cut stoichedon; in lines 4-11

five columns occupy a horizontal space of about 0.086m, as noted by Meritt. There are remains of a circular depression of a maximum depth of 0.05m, on the altar’s top (not mentioned by Meritt) which was no doubt intended to contain offerings deposited on the altar (Fig. 1). The placement of the first three lines, cut on the front of the abacus which projected on all three preserved sides, was indented from the left edge and centered below the midpoint of the depression (Fig. 2). This shows that the block had originally been square

in section.” The original width at the top can be calculated approximately from the diameter of the circle of the depression (0.335m) by adding the width of the rim at the left (0.025m), plus the width of the lost rim at the right side (also 0.025m?) for a figure of 0.385m (which is the length of the preserved left side). The original width of the shaft of the block, carrying lines 4-11, can be calcu-

lated by subtracting from the width at the top twice the projection of 0.040m on the left side (assuming an approximately equal projection on the lost right side), i.e. 0.385m-ca. 0.08m = ca. 0.305m. The original width of the shaft was estimated by Meritt to be the equivalent of 19 letters spaces (i.e., another 8 spaces to the right of the preserved text). This would require an original width of 0.3268m, since, as he observed, five columns occupy horizontally 0.086m and thus one letter space is approximately 0.0172m. But with the width calculated at approximately 0.305m, a maximum of 17 letters spaces (requiring 0.2924m) are available, or at most a further six letters spaces to the right of the

preserved text. Certainly some unevenness in the shaping of the block is possible, producing a surface with space for one or two letter spaces more or less than the 17 indicated by these measurements. I ask the reader to bear this in

218

MICHAEL H. JAMESON

Fig. 1.

AN ALTAR FOR HERAKLES

219

t

x % Tere.

Fig. 2.

im MA SR,

oye are.

tg

+᾿ , + er ae

“1.

220

MICHAEL H. JAMESON

mind

and I refrain from adding a qualification each time the line length is

discussed. From line 7 on, a single name and demotic occupies each line and

the line length would have been irregular. Longer demotics, if any, may have been abbreviated. 1

5

Τιμόθ!εος) Τεισί[ου]

τῶι ‘Hp{axAei] ἱερὸν ᾿Ηρακλέϊους IIpa} ξιεργιδῶν ΚΑΙ...)

stoichedon 17

ΩΝ τῶνδε OLZEM[—]

[Μ)ύσχων

᾿Αλωπείκῆθεν!

[᾿ΑἹρέσανδρος. (-----Ἰ

{-ἰν ᾿Αγρυλῆϊθεν) 10

[{ΓΟλυμ]πιόδωροις ---Ἰ

[.4.) Μελ[ιτ[εὐς} ---]

The readings and restorations are Meritt’s except as noted. He restored τῶν in

line 4, omitted here because of the shorter line our measurements require, whereas we spell the god’s name with -ous rather than -ος.᾽ Alternatively, a 16letter line with the genitive spelled -0< is possible. We postpone for the moment discussion of the restoration of lines 5-6. As for readings, I dot the e in line 6 and the last O in line 10, but not the E of line 5 and neither the Ὁ nor the M of line 6. At the end of line 8, traces of a letter can be seen but are too uncertain

to be printed in the text.‘ In line 7, Meritt restored without comment [Φ͵ύσχων, a name not otherwise

attested in Attika. There is an Attic ®voxwv from Cholleidai” and one could postulate a change here from x to x as a result of aspirate dissimilation (cf.

Threatte [1980] 455-460). But since the name Μύσχων is attested (7G I’ 1150, before ca. 450 BC), it seems better to restore that name known in Attika, /G I? 13,083, fourth century BC).

(Μυσχίδης is also

The text is in three parts: (a) a dedication (1-3), (b) identification of the shrine and

of the persons involved

(4-6),

(c) a list of personal names

and

demotics (7ff.). The dedicator, Timotheos, was identified by Meritt as the nephew of the

general Iphikrates, of the deme of Rhamnous (cf. Davies {1971] 251 and Table VD and given a floruit of ca. 348 BC. He had a brother, Timarchos (Aeschin. 1.157 and Schol.).

Meritt restored lines 4-6 as follows: ἱερὸν ᾿Ηρακλέϊος τῶν pa}

5

ξιεργιδῶν καταρξαμένῃ

wv τῶνδε οἷς μι[ελαίνας [1]

AN ALTAR FOR HERAKLES

221

The translation would be: “Sanctuary of Herakles of the following Praxiergidai who have sacrificed two black ewes.” Meritt compares IG II? 4970 (LSCG 23)

and IG I? 4971 (LSCG 22) for sacrifices of aresteres (ἀρεστῆρες). Only IG I? 4971

specifies that aresteres are to be offered but another inscription, for

Mnemosyne, published by Meritt in 1963 (46, no. 62 [LSCG 26]), could be

added. However, the arester referred to in the listing of offerings to be made on these small altars is a type of cake, as are all the other offerings specified. A

small altar of the third or second century BC, in the Athenian Asklepieion, is inscribed: [LSCG

“Of Herakles.

Sacrifice three monomphala

24]). A type of cake was known

(cakes)”

(IG II? 4986

as a bous and although no cake is

known to have been called ois, we do hear of a cake in the form of a goat, so one in the form of a sheep is not inconceivable.° But why would the making (not the prescribing, as on the other altars cited) of such an offering be recorded on stone? Such altars were not suitable for animal sacrifice which was never prescribed for them. Furthermore two black ewes have no place here, nor, to my knowledge, anywhere in the cult of Herakles. Meritt may have been influenced by recollection of Odysseus’ before

entering

χεσθαι, which

Hades

(Hom.

Od.

sacrifice of a ram and a black ewe

10.517-537,

refers to the formal beginning

11.23-50).

Finally,

xatép-

of a full sacrifice, is not the

appropriate verb for the dedication of an altar nor for the institution of a cult.’ τῶνδε in line 6 one expects to refer to what follows, i.e., the list of names in lines 7-11, and so the intervening phrase in the second half of line 6 should refer to them. common

That phrase is surely οἷς μέτεστι, which

participation,

here

“those

who

share

is used to indicate

(in the shrine)”,

as in the

inscription of the orgeones of Bendis (JG I? 1361.3 and 18-19 [LSCG 45], after the mid-fourth century), οἷς μέτεστι τοῦ ἱεροῦ" Here there is no room for a reference to the shrine or rites which are shared. But since ἱερόν stands at the beginning of the sentence the shrine or the cult did not need to be expressed a second time. Before

τῶνδε there was another genitive plural, either modifying the in-

escapable Πρα!] } ξιεργιδῶν, restored by Meritt, or referring to a second group of men in addition to the Praxiergidai. A phrase such as κα[τὰ δόγμα (“according to the resolution”) or xa{té μαντείαν (“according to an oracle”) allows no room for the genitive plural. The

alternative

solution,

xafi, followed by the de-

signation of a second group, is necessary. After a full stop at the end of line 3,

lines 4-6 may be read as follows: ἱερὸν ᾿Ηρακλέϊους Πρα]-

5

ξιεργιδῶν καὶὶ ...”..)wv τῶνδε οἷς p[éteott]

MICHAEL H. JAMESON

222

“Sanctuary of Herakles belonging to the following Praxiergidai and

;

(namely), those who share (in the shrine).” The language of lines 4-6, hieron

+ genitive of the divinity + genitive of the group, is that found on stones that have been described as “sanctuary markers”, e.g. 16 II? 4973-4975 (Lambert

[1993] Τό, T11, T13, T25).° The altar is the dedication of Timotheos but members

of the two

groups

involved

declare

their joint possession

of the

shrine.!° The naming of the individuals who share in the shrine implies that not all members are participants, but it is not evident whether the restriction applies to both groups or only to the second, i.e. “all Praxiergidai participate and the following of Group 2 ...”, or “of Praxiergidai and Group 2, the following ...”.

The impression given by this small altar and its narrow inscription, however, is of a small enterprise by a few individuals, not an undertaking by all members of a genos important in the religious life of Athens, with whom are associated some members of another group. The Praxiergidai are the genos concerned with the cleansing and dressing of

the ancient statue of Athena on the Akropolis." What is the other group? A second genos is one possibility, though aside from such ancient roles as those of the Eumolpidai and Kerykes in the Mysteries or Eteoboutadai and Praxiergidai in the cult of Athena Polias, we do not hear of members of two gene

collaborating in a cult. The association of a genos with a phratry is attested and may

have been

a common

pattern. Aischines

(2.147)

speaks

of his father

belonging to a phratry with which the prestigious genos of the Eteoboutadai shared altars (ἡ τῶν αὐτῶν βωμῶν ᾿Ετεοβουτάδα!ς μετέχει, ὅθεν ἡ τῆς ᾿Αθηνᾶς τῆς

Πολιάδος ἐστὶν igpera).'* Andrewes (1961) 9 and Lambert (1993) 74 understood Aischines to imply that all members of the Eteoboutadai were members of his father’s phratry,

and,

in general,

believed

that individual

gene were

commonly subgroups of phratries, as were also thiasot and groups of orgeones. Neither of these, thiasotai or orgeones (and orgeones might refer to themselves as

a thiasos, Lambert [1993] 78 ἢ. 70), appear to have had distinct were identified by reference to an individual or a god (cf. Lambert 76). Space does not allow restoration of a designation of either of in this inscription.|? Instead, a group of six or more men, all very

names but [1993] 75these types likely from

the same phratry as the Praxiergidai, and some of them from the genos of the

Praxiergidai, collaborated in the worship of Herakles. The front face of the .

altar might have contained as many as 20 names." Limitations of space on the stone exclude some candidates for the putative second group and require that the name in the genitive plural be no longer than seven letters, e.g., among phratries Δυαλέ]!ὧν or Οἰκατ)ῶν (cf. Lambert [1993]

363-365),

among gene Κηρύκ) ὧν, ‘Iwvid]|@v, Κωλιέ!ὧν, Χαριδ)} ὧν,

AN ALTAR FOR HERAKLES

223

Aa&ad]|Qv, for none of which are there any grounds for connecting them with

our second group. The resulting organization formed by men from the two groups might well have described itself as a thiasos. Heraklean thiasot appear to have been not uncommon, which is to be expected in view of the many small shrines of Herakles in Attika.'® Three specific Heraklean thiasoi are known: (1) Isae. 9.30; (2) IG IP? 2343 (Gill [1991] 43); (3) IG P 1016 (SEG 10 330), the thiasos of the Enonidai (Lambert [1993] 88), where the restoration of the name Herakles is likely but not certain. To these should probably be added the 7 or 8 thiasoi of 1G II? 2345, as interpreted by Lambert (1997a)

105-106 and (1999)

124.

Lambert suggests that the men listed on our altar may have constituted one of those thiasoi; the common name Olympiodoros appears at JG II? 2345.90, and as a patronymic at JG II? 2345.22. Members of the genos of Salaminioi are represented in /G II? 2345 and the genos was active in a cult of Herakles (SEG 21 527.84-87, LSCG

Suppl.

19, Lambert

[1997a]

85-88, no.

1), but space

precludes restoring its name for our second group in lines 5-6. Anstophanes’ lost Daitalets seems to have been set in a Herakles shrine and to have involved thiasotai.'® Herakles may have been one of the gods of the phratry Thymaitis

mentioned in a fragmentary inscription from the north side of the Areopagos.'” Timotheos, who belonged to the liturgical class, undertook the not very burdensome cost of dedicating the small altar on which were recorded the names of his fellows. His role in the organization is not specified. Compare /G 1° 972 for one member of an organization making the dedication without being described as an official, while four archontes are named Timotheos

may

have

acted

as

secretary

as

did

on an adjacent face.

Sosipolis

(avéypalyev) a list of fellow phrateres (IG II? 2344, Lambert Timotheos was not necessarily himself

who

wrote

up

[1993] 342-343).

a member of the Praxiergidai. Davies

(1971) 248 prudently spoke of his family’s “having some association with the Praxiergidai.” Aside from Timotheos, none of the persons named can be identified. The very

common

name

Olympiodoros

in

line

10

appears

in the

thiasos

of

Diogenes in 16 II? 2345.90, and as a patronymic in the thiasos of Hagnotheos UG II? 2345.22), in neither case with a demotic.'® Lambert has suggested tentatively that the men listed on the altar may have belonged to this shrasos because of the demotics represented (on which see [1997a] 105-106 and [1999)). Meritt noted that each affiliation preserved is with a different tribe (Antiochis, Erechtheis, Kekropis). If Timotheos was also listed (as Sosippos was named

twice in JG II? 2344) his was another tribe again (Rhamnous in

Aiantis). All the demes were from city mtryes, though in the case of Rhamnous that does not point to an urban character. It is not evident why a group of

224

MICHAEL H. JAMESON

men, drawn from a particular genos and, possibly, a particular phratry, should have come from different tribes, nor why all ten tribes should have been represented, as the dimensions of the stone allow. This apparent distribution of individuals among separate tribes may be purely fortuitous. What else, besides this modest altar, may have constituted the shrine -- a

building for dining, a statue, an altar suitable for animal sacrifice — we do not know. The establishment of this cult, perhaps announced by the setting up of

the altar with its inscription, can be taken as an example of the propensity of both Athenians and foreigners in fourth-century Athens to form small communities of worshippers, as seen in the proliferation of thiasoi and groups of orgeones.'” Participation in such organizations may have risen as the social

life of older organizations, such as the demes, declined. Lambert (1999) 127 writes: “One wonders whether the thiasoi of Herakles might ... have had the function of incorporating into religious and social life ... a broader range of family members than could be accommodated within the formal structures of phratries and gene, with their emphasis on strict legitimacy.” The altar was found in the Agora in a late Byzantine wall, south of the

railway tracks and the altar of the Twelve Gods.” Of the many traces of Herakles cults in Athens, the two nearest to the findspot are that of Herakles

Alexikakos, probably on the eastern spur of the Hill of the Nymphs, above the present Plateia Thisiou,?'

and the shrine marked

by a horos inscribed on a

marble cover tile found at no. 5, Odos Ayiou Philippou, north of the Agora (JG

I’ 1059).”? Both date from before the fourth century. Georges Daux (1968), however,

argued cogently that the second horos had been recut later. It is

possible, then, that Timotheos’ dedication was on the occasion of a revival or

reorganization of that cult. But in view of the popularity of Herakles in Athens it may well have come from a shrine not otherwise known to us.

AN ALTAR FOR HERAKLES

225

BIBLIOGRAPHY Andrewes, A. 1961. “Philochorus on Phratries,” FHS 81: 1-15. Brumfield, A. 1997. “Cakes in the Liknon: Votives from the Sanctuary of Demeter and Kore on Acrocorinth,” Hesperia 66: 147-172.

Daux, G. 1968. “Chroniques des fouilles et découvertes archéologiques en Grèce 1967,” BCH 92: 735-736.

Davies, J.K. 1971. Athentan Propertied Families, 600-300 B.C. (Oxford). Edmonds, J.M. 1957. The Fragments of Attic Comedy (Leiden). Ferguson, W.S. 1944. “The Attic Orgeones,” Harvard Theological Review 37: 61-140. Ferguson, W.S. 1949. “Orgeonika,” in Commemoranve Studies in Honor of Theodore Leslie Shear, Hesperia, Supplement 8 (Princeton) 130-163 Gill, D. 1991. Greek Cult Tables (New York and London). Hedrick, C.W., Jr. 1988. “The Thymaitian Phratry,” Hesperia 57: 83-85. Kearns, E. 1989. The Heroes of Artica, BICS Supplement 57.

Kearns, E. 1994. “Cakes in Greek Sacrifice Regulations,” in R. Hägg (ed.), Ancient Greek Cult Practice from the Epigraphical Evidence, Swedish Institute at Athens, SkrAch 80, 13 (Stockholm) 65-70.

Lambert, S.D. 1993. The Phrarries of Attica (Ann Arbor). Lambert, S.D. 1997a. “The Attic Genos Salaminioi and the Island of Salamis,” ZPE 119: 85-106.

Lambert, S.D. 1997b. Rationes Centesimarum. Sales of Public Land in Lykourgan Athens, APXAJA EAAAZ 3 (Leiden). Lambert, S.D. 1999. “JG I? 2345: Thiasoi of Herakles and the Salaminioi Again,” ZPE 121: 93-130. LGPN = A Lexicon of Greek Personal Names, II Attica, edited by M]. Osborne & 5.0. Byrne (Oxford 1994). LSCG Suppl. = Sokolowski, F. 1962. Lots sacrées des cités grecques. Supplément (Paris). LSCG = Sokolowski, F. 1969. Lois sacrées des cités grecques (Paris). Meritt, B.D. 1938. “Greek Inscriptions,” Hesperia 7: 77-146. Meritt, B.D. 1963. “Greek Inscriptions,” Hesperia 32: 1-56. Mikalson, J.D. 1998. Religion in Hellenistic Athens (Berkeley). Parker, R. 1996. Athenian Religion. A History (Oxford).

Petrakos, B. 1979. “Νέες ἔρευνες στὸν ᾿Ραμνοῦντα,᾽ ArchEph: 1-81. Stengel, P. 1910. Opferbräuche der Griechen (Leipzig and Berlin) = “KATAPXEZS8AI und ΕΝΑΡΧΕΣΘΑΙ," Hermes 43 (1908) 456-467, Threatte, L. 1980. The Grammar of Attic Greek Inscriptions. 1. Phonology (Berlin). Toepffer, I. 1889 Attische Genealogie (Berlin). Travlos, J. 1971, Pictorial Dictionary of Ancient Athens (London). Verbanck-Piérard,

A.

1992.

“Herakles

at

Feast

in

Attic

Art:

A Mythical

or

Cultic

Iconography?” in R. Hägg (ed.), The iconography of Greek Cult tn the Archatc and Classical

Periods, Kernos Supplement 1 (Athens-Liége) 85-106. Woodford, 5. 1971. “Cults of Herakles in Attica,” in D.G. Mitten, J.G. Pedley & J.A. Scott (eds.), Studies Presented to George M.A. Hanfmann (Mainz) 211-225. Ziehen, L. 1906. Leges sacrae Graecorum. Pars 2.1. Leges Graeciae et insularum (Leipzig).

MICHAEL H. JAMESON

226

NOTES I am grateful for the courtesy of the staff of the Agora Excavations in facilitating reexamination of the stone and for che photographs, Figs. 1 and 2, to Richard Anderson for accurate measurements, and to the keen eyes of Stephen Lambert, John Camp and David Jordan. Dr. Judith Binder has generously shared with me her detailed knowledge of Athenian topography. I have also profited from discussion with friends, in particular, Stephen Lambert. None, however,

shares responsibility for what I have written. It is just conceivable that one or more other depressions on the upper surface, and more names on the fascia, have been lost to the right, but this is very unlikely, as one can see by attempting to restore lines 1-3 (names and patronymics of more dedicators are no problem but a new divine recipient for each circle would be), and I leave the possibility out of account in what follows. The same applies to the possibility that the depression was oval in shape with its cwo ends in the form

of half circles (as on the early fourth-century sacred table of Heraklean thiasorai for whom Simon was priest, /G II? 2343 [Gill (1991) Fig. 20]). Unfortunately, we lack a comprehensive study of the forms of Classical altars that would make useful compansons possible. For a single circular depression, cf. JG P 1016, a small altar of the early fifth century, dedicated to Herakles by the thiasos of the Etionidai. See Threatte (1980)

156-157.

I have read, tentatively, Q, which Jordan too sees as the most likely reading, although in a raking light A or A seemed plausible to him. Lambert, however, sees an upright which J.McK. Camp agrees is consistent with II. To Jordan and my eyes it seems too low and short for the left vertical cf. Jordan suggests I, if the stroke was deliberate and not a scratch. I see no trace of a horizontal

for aD. With O the demotic “Oja8ev] would fit the space. ΠΙαιανιεύς, the demotic of another fourth-century

Aresandros

(JG

I?

7025),

would

require

19

spaces.

The

demotics

of the

Aresandros in Lysias fr. 23 and SEG 37 58j are not known. Lambert points out the patronymic, "Apeo—, of the father of an official involved in selling the property of [Herak]ies Plousios (Lambert [1997b] F12, 7-13, and pp. 174, 203-204). SEG 21 938, where ®voxj{pov is also suggested, cf, e.g., /G II’ 3454. LGPN mistakenly cites our inscription for [®Noxwv. Keams (1994) 69-70; for sacrificial cakes in general see Kearns (1994) and Brumfield (1997). On the sacrificial term katarchesthai, see Stengel (1910) 40-49. Doubts about Meritt’s restoration were expressed by J. & L. Robert in BE (1938) 10, no. 54. Cf, inter alia, IG T’ 9.7-9: hoionep μέπεσστιν τὸ πε Syli 1106): offc] μέτεστι τῶν ἱερῶν.

po; LSCG

177.52 (Kos, Ziehen [1906] 144,

Cf. mepdv | Διὸς Sevilo Θυμαιτί δος φρατρίας UG 1° 1057, Lambert [1993] T 13); liepô{v] | [᾿Απόλ)λωνοις] | [Πατρκόιου op |larpiak Gepprx|[Aandpov (1G IP? 4973, Lambert [1993] T 11); {mepdv}| Κηφισὸ | Γλεων τίδος {{φ)ρατρίας, (Hesperia 17 (1948) 35, no. 18, Lambert [1993] T6); ἱερὰ Διὸς | Φρατρίο

| καὶ ᾿Αθηνᾶ!ις), 010 II? 4975, Lambert

[1993] T 25).

Βωμόν, no doubt, is to be understood as the object of the unspoken verb of dedication. To suppose that ἱερόν qualifies the unspoken βωμόν - “Timotheos son of Teisias dedicated (this altar) to Herakles, sacred to Herakles and belonging to the Praxiergidai etc.” - would introduce an improbable redundancy, Cf. Toepffer (1889) 133-136 and /G P 7. Isac. 7.15-16 may be another example

(so Parker [1996] 64 n. 30) though the language would

allow for separate altars of genos and phratry. 13.

Nor of a phrase such as τῶν ἄλλων θιασωτ) ὥν.

14.

I am not in a position to attempt a statistical study of the dimensions of small altars. A comparison, however, with a very similar altar from Rhamnous (Petrakos [1979] 38) of much the same date as Agora I 5210, suggests that the proportions of the original height to width were approximately 1.73: 1. Applied to the altar of Herakles, with an original width at the top of 0.385m, we get an original height of ca. 0.667m, or 0.337m more than is preserved. Allowing e.g.

0.05m blank at the bottom of the shaft and with each space occupying vertically 0.0176m (5 spaces = 0.088m, according to Meritt), ca. 0.29m is sufficient for another 16 lines for a total of

AN ALTAR FOR HERAKLES

227

ca. 21 lines of names (parts of 5 lines of names are preserved though the last, line 11, offers nothing legible). An estimate of 10 to 20 names in all on this face seems reasonable. It is possible, however, that the list of names continued on the lost right side of the stone.

15. 16.

Cf. Theophr. Char. 22,5, Ferguson (1944) 71 n. 12, Lambert (1993) 88-90; Parker (1996) 333334, who stresses the use of public Herakleia by private groups. Edmonds (1957) I, 626-629; Suda, s.v. δαιταλεῖς and Suda and Harp. s.v. ᾿Ηράκλεια; Ath. 6.260b, 14.614d, cited by Lambert [1993] 88 n. 137; more generally, cf. Ferguson (1944) 71 n. 12, Woodford (1971) and Verbanck-Piérard (1992).

17.

Hedrick (1988), but note also Lambert (1993) 330-331.

18.

The name Olympiodoros was detected by Hiller in the first line of JG I? 825, an early fifth-century dedication to Herakles but was not repeated by Lewis in JG I’ 1017.

19.

On orgeones, see especially Ferguson (1944) and (1949), Kearns (1989) 73-77, Lambert (1993) 74-77; Mikalson (1998) 144-155. On private organizations generally, Parker (1996) 328-342.

20.

In Section H, Meritt (1938) 92, cf. Hesperia 6 (1937) 335, Fig. 2.

21.

Here I follow the guidance kindly provided by Dr. Judith Binder who rejects Travlos’ location of Herakles Alexikakos in the Bakcheion near the southeast of the Agora (Travios [1971] 274-275)

and points to /G I’ 1058, Meritt in Hesperia 3 (1934) 64-65, no. 56; a relief of Herakles with the Erymanthian boar (National Museum no. 43, LIMC V, 2, p. 62, no. 2110, ca. 520 BC, LIMC V, 1, p. 44), found near the Hephaisteion (implausibly assigned by Travios [1971] 274 to the shrine marked by the stone from Odos Ayiou Philippou); a terracotta votive plaque of Herakles riding a donkey found at the east foot of the Hill of the Nymphs, Thompson in Hesperia 17 (1948)

180, pl. 60, no. 1 (LIMC IV, 2, pl. 551, no. 1585); sculpture of a reclining Herakles from

the northeast slope of the Hill of the Nymphs, Thompson in Hesperia 18 (1949) 221, 22.

pl. 44, 1.

Travlos (1971) 274 and Fig. 355. A sculpture (National Museum 1454) of a reclining Herakles was found near Monastiraki Square in a wrench cut for the railroad (Travlos [1971} 274 and 277, Fig. 354; LIMC IV, 2, pl. 516, no. second century AD.

1048), close to Odos Ayiou Philippou, but dating from the

The Meaning of Polis in Thucydides 2.16.2. A Note

J.E. SKYDSGAARD

ἐβαρύνοντο δὲ καὶ χαλεπῶς ἔφερον οἰκίας te καταλείποντες καὶ ἱερὰ ἃ διὰ παντὸς ἦν

αὐτοῖς ἐκ τῆς κατὰ τὸ ἀρχαῖον πολιτείας πάτρια δίαιτάν τε μέλλοντες μεταβάλλειν καὶ οὐδὲν ἄλλο À πόλιν τὴν αὐτοῦ ἀπολείπων ἕκαστος.

In the beginning of the Peloponnesian War the Athenians evacuated Attika. Thucydides gives a vivid description and an antiquarian explanation of the difficulties involved at 2.14-16. Being accustomed to live in the countryside the

Athenians were sorry to leave their houses and sanctuaries and to change their daily life and abandon “what ... seemed [sc. to each man] to be nothing less than his own polis.” This is the rendering of Whitehead (1986) 222; the Loeb edition translates “facing what was nothing less for each of them than forsaking

his own town”; Parker (1987) 137 says “to bid farewell to what each regarded as his native city”; and Hornblower (1991) 269 translates “each of them felt as if he was leaving his native city.” There seems to be a rather strong tradition in favour of introducing a subjective aspect in the rendering of Thucydides’ words οὐδὲν ἄλλο ἢ πόλιν τὴν αὐτοῦ ἀπολείπων ἕκαστος which I do not find necessary. The participle ἀπολείπων is paralleled by the two other participles (καταλείποντες, μέλλοντες μεταβάλλειν) governed by ἐβαρύνοντο δὲ καὶ χαλεπῶς ἔφερον and suggests that what each man left was precisely his own city. It is obvious what has made the translators introduce the subjective aspect. We

know that many Athenians lived in the demes and the demes were not

poleis. Therefore, the Athenians were not leaving each man his own polis. In the

context where the statement under consideration is found Thucydides explains that before the time of Theseus the Athenians lived kata polets (2.15.2: ἐπὶ yap Κέκροπος καὶ τῶν πρώτων βασιλέων ἡ ᾿Αττικὴ ἐς Θησέα αἰεὶ κατὰ πόλεις ᾧκεῖτο) which had their own prytaneia and archontes (πρυτανεῖά τε ἐχούσας καὶ ἄρχοντας, ibidem), thus giving a political defintion

of a polis. Theseus

abolished

the

separate councils and governments of the cities and created one polis with one

bouleuterion and one prytaneion. The synoecism was, accordingly, a political act and not a physical one, and the former poleis continued to exist as nucleated

settlements as many would call them today; but Thucydides considered them to be poles.

230

J.E. SKYDSGAARD

Whitehead

(1986)

5 gives

a convincing

sketch

of the pre-Kleisthenic

“demes”, based on the archaeological observations of Coldstream. Mycenaean Attika had several centres, and in the so-called Dark Age and early Archaic period an inner colonisation took place, new settlements being created near the arable land. Thucydides was for good reason not acquainted with the results

of modern archaeology, and he might have included such settlements among the former poleis. They became the core of the Kleisthenic demes, although we now know that, according to Lohmann

(1993), there were demes which did

not contain a nucleated settlement.

The use of the demotic, also introduced by Kleisthenes as a part of the official name Athenian

of a citizen,

must

have

strengthened

the

attachment

of an

to his native place, although he did not necessarily live there. He

would always know his roots outside the urban centre of Athens and Thucydi-

des could at 2.16.2 use the word polts in a wider sense than normally done.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Hornblower, S. 1991. A Commentary on Thucydides I (Oxford). Lohmann, H. 1993. Atene. Forschungen zu Siedlungs- und Wirtschaftsstruktur des klassischen Attika (Cologne). Parker, R. 1987. “The Festivals of the Attic Demes,” in Gifts for the Gods = Boreas 15: 137-

147. Whitehead, D. 1986. The Demes of Attica 508/7-ca. 250 B.C. (Princeton).

What is Greek about the Polis? OSWYN

In January

1999

in the programme

MURRAY

of the

Copenhagen

Polis

Centre

you

organised one of your famous ‘working symposia’ on the topic of ‘City-State Cultures in World History’: in the palatial neo-classical surroundings of the

Carlsberg Academy

you presided over a meeting of experts on ‘city-state

cultures’ throughout the world, from Malaysia to Meso-America in space and from Sumeria to modern Algeria in time. Our aim was to clarify the concept of ‘city-state culture’ and to agree on a series of criteria which would serve to

distinguish a model or Weberian ideal type of the ‘city-state’. On this occasion it was my duty to respond to your contribution on ‘the Hellenic polis’; it was also my pleasure to discover myself to be the elder statesman among

those

present, having been involved in your great project since 1992, from almost the outset, and having attended two of your previous symposia. In the speech of thanks with which we proposed your health, I recalled both your marvellous qualities as a host, and that mischievous delight in provoking the unexpected, which caused you to christen your project with a name which is all too easily confused with a quite different type of investigation -- so that your innocent collaborators (who on this occasion were mostly people previously unaware of the existence of your centre) received urgent telephone messages to contact the

Copenhagen police centre immediately, and were left wondering what awful deeds had been committed in their name by unknown criminals who had somehow stolen their identity.

But that colloquium was for me far more than another occasion to sample your generous hospitality, as always combined with an intensity of work and

an efficiency of organisation which have become legendary. For you presided over an opening of intellectual horizons which has been reverberating in my mind

ever since. The

official version of the acts of the colloquium

will be

published with your customary and exemplary speed;' but the papers will reflect the (revised) opinions of the contributors, and the formal bulletin of our International Commission for the Definition of the City-State, rather than the excitement of the original discussions as we discovered the similarities and

differences between our areas of study, and struggled with the conceptual difficulties resulting from attempting to identify common features across world history. It is characteristic of your approach to history that you should have

232

OSWYN MURRAY

had this effect on us. You may claim to be a ‘positivist? German type of chimpanzee, but you have an uncanny ability to use your empirical approach in order to reformulate the terms of the debate, and so to challenge your fellow

monkeys to try to reach the bananas after their fashion, even to meet you on your own ground. What I offer you on this occasion is therefore an attempt to recapture some of that intellectual stimulation which caused all of us to rethink

the fundamental assumptions behind our uncritical belief in the uniqueness of our own chosen cultures. So just as you have rewritten your two contributions

to the colloquium for publication in its formal acts,” so I have rewritten and expanded my response in the light of the questions which the entire conference has left in my mind. It was a particularly difficult task to respond to our leader and convenor of that colloquium. The Copenhagen Polis project is probably the most important

single project at present being undertaken in the field of Greek history: in its ability to renew the focus of Classical studies, it ranks with the activities of the

Beazley Archive and the Lexicon of Greek Personal Names at Oxford, and the Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae of Zürich. It has a clear methodology, and has accumulated a series of ancillary studies which expound

and defend that methodology; written by Mogens

Herman

the majority of these studies are of course

Hansen himself, and those that are not are still

inspired by your approach. The result is that almost everything that could be

said in relation to your paper on the Hellenic polis has already been said by the aforementioned Hansen somewhere or other. In commenting on your paper I did not therefore wish to make

any claim to originality; I rather wanted

simply to place your interpretation of the Hellenic polis in a wider context of other possible interpretations, and perhaps to suggest that there are a number of places where your emphasis

is or may be misplaced or controversial, or

where further research may be necessary to clarify difficulties. It was in the nature of the occasion as an exercise in comparative history that a model should be established in order to test the similarities and differences

between the comparanda under investigation. There seems to me no doubt that you had in fact structured the meeting around the Hellenic polis: you were asking us to consider how unique that institution was, or alternatively how far it could be seen as a type, and what are the social forces which produce these

real or apparent similarities in world history. I think it must be clear that the very formulation of this question has two consequences. Firstly it privileges the model, which is not a theoretical but a historical model;

and it is therefore

especially important that the general structure of the model should reflect historical reality as accurately as possible. Secondly it inevitably introduces an element of non-specificity in the model: we are interested not in the things

WHAT IS GREEK

which

ABOUT

THE

POLIS ?

233

are clearly unique to the Greek city, but in those aspects which are

capable of comparison. We will therefore to some extent ignore the individuality of the Greek city in the interests of making it comparable to other similar institutions. The end process may be a theory and an abstract model of the city-state, but we cannot get there without beginning from somewhere in time and place; and our generalisations feed back and forth to create an

abstract model from what began as an experienced reality. As John Collis said in his ‘alternative view’ of the city-state circulated after the event, the agenda

was set by those who deal with the Greek The first question I want to raise relates Wilamowitz was absolutely clear that the nineteenth century: he could even name Norden

in

1918

polis.’ to this model. The German scholar polis was an invention of the midthe inventor. In a letter to Eduard

he called it “a silly Burckhardtian

Burckhardtsches Schlagwort). In contrast Pohlmann

slogan”

(ein dummes

and Kaerst, neither of

whom had reason to count Wilamowitz a friend, openly acknowledged their debt to Burckhardt’s

‘brilliant insight’, when

the lectures on Greek culture

finally began to be published in 1898. The issue has recently been explored in a polemical work which (whatever one thinks of its thesis) contains a great deal

of interesting comparative material — Wilfried Gawantka’s provocatively titled Die Sogenannte Polis.* It does indeed seem clear to me that our modern interest

in the polis goes back to the generation of Burckhardt, but not to Burckhardt alone, even if his ‘nightmare picture’ of the polis was especially instrumental in provoking a series of idealised daytime reactions in the next generation. For it is surely significant that at the point when (around

1870) Burckhardt was

evolving his description of the polis, he seems to have been still unaware of a little book published in 1864 by a Strasbourg professor, Fustel de Coulanges’

La cité annque: he mentions the book in a marginal note to the later manuscript of his lectures which he began to revise for publication and then abandoned, as if he was only recently aware of it, and was perhaps still considering the need

for revision in the light of Fustel’s views.” The meeting of those two minds would indeed have centred on the concept of the Greek city. But what I wish,

to emphasise is that the two contrasting modern interpretations of the polis were evolved independently and almost simultaneously in the mid-nineteenth century. Moreover both of them were based on explicitly comparative approaches: Burckhardt’s polis was clearly predicated on his famous chapter on ‘the state as a work of art’ in The Civilization of the Renaissance, while Fustel de

Coulanges based his interpretation on parallels with ancient India and early . Italy. You yourself have shown in turn that the modern concept of the state “is a development of political thought which belongs in the nineteenth century”;°

you have also shown that the concept represented in English by the word-pair

234

OSWYN MURRAY

‘city-state’ is a lexical formation which began its life in Denmark in 1840, and is found fully explicit in German and English only from 1886.’ It seems therefore that, although it may now appear obvious that the polis existed as a conceptual entity for the ancient Greeks, in the modern world it

was not perceived as a unique and interesting phenomenon

until the mid-

nineteenth century — at precisely the time that the modern idea of ‘the State’ developed.

The

city-state can then perhaps be regarded

as essentially that

version of the State that was possessed by the Greeks and Romans;

and the

differences between the Greco-Roman city-state or polis and the modern state only came to seem important when the idea of the State had reached its full nationalistic and Hegelian formulation. So our interest in the polis is a reflection of our interest in the State as a metaphysical entity; and the question is therefore whether in discussing the polis we are inevitably viewing the Greeks through nineteenth century eyes, in contrast and in relation to the modern

European nation-state. What does that do to our understanding of the Greek conception of their institution of the polis? Does it distort our view? Does it not make us at least privilege certain uses of the word polis® and its cognates over other uses? Or are the polis and the state in fact simply historical variants of each other, and if so why? Certain choices of methodology seem to me to be relevant here. The basis of your

investigation

is essentially

nominalist,

concerned

with

the

lexical

meanings of the word polts; much of the work you have undertaken could not have been done before the introduction of computerised

word-searches.

It

proceeds by the identification and definition of a word which has a variety of clearly separable meanings:

not surprisingly these meanings

are analysed in

terms of the different senses of its modern equivalent. Since the aim is equivalence

or translation,

there is (in contrast

to the Fustelian

tradition)

no

suggestion that the polis is a foreign concept whose range of connotations is vague,

indefinable or incompatible

with any modern

equivalent.

This is of

course one of the traditional problems of definition since the earliest attempts of definition by division in Plato; but it could be overcome to some extent by

an emphasis on ostensive definition — what did the Greeks call a polis? And clearly they called any nucleated settlement, whether Greek or non-Greek, whether Mesopotamian megalopolis or Celtic cantonment, equally a polıs. But

that is not what we call a ‘polis’: our ‘poleis’ are inhabited by Greeks, and in conformity with the lex Hafniensis they are all also organised as ‘city-states’. So our use of the word ‘polis’ corresponds to the Greek use only partially, in so far as both of us are referring to Greek poleis: “The lex Hafniensis applies to

Hellenic poleis only.”

WHAT

IS GREEK ABOUT THE POLIS ?

235

I have one particular concern with your analysis of the word polts as it is

applied to the Greek world, which is in part shared by yourself. You accept two basic meanings of the word pols, that of settlement and that of community, from which

a number

of subsidiary meanings

can be derived.

emphasise that for the Greeks the concept of the polis as

You

rightly

a community

(a

koinonia) of citizens is dominant.'® But it seems to me that the very concentration of the investigation on the word polıs is likely to distort this funda-

mental truth in the direction which is similar to that in the Greek is a general term, which or in situations which concern is, any investigation of the exemplified

of creating a balance in the range of meanings modern concept of the State. The word pois in is normally used either in theoretical discussions the geographical location of a specific polis: that word polis is likely to find it most frequently

in the philosophical

context

of theories

of the polis or in the

geographical context of settlement patterns: in each case there are obvious

analogies with the modern theory of the sovereign state and modern ideas of the territorial state. But normally when Greeks talked about their city, they did not use the word polis at all: they referred to the generic name of its citizens. As a general term for this practice you use the obscure grammatical description, ‘ethnikon’: but the words used have nothing to do with ethnicity in either the modern or the ancient sense. Those of us who learned the now arcane art of Greek prose composition knew as one of our most basic rules that the correct translation into Greek of the name of a country, state, government or town was not its geographical toponym, but the name

of the citizens: Athens was hoz

Athenaioi, Sparta μοὶ Lakedaimonioi; America

‘the Americans’, and so on in

every possible context. In your original presentation you said, “In ancient Greece a war was always waged between two poleis, never between chorar”; the correct formulation is rather, “In ancient Greek a war was always waged be-

tween two citizen groups never between polets”. So strictly a discussion of the polis of Athens as a political community must start from the collection of every instance of the phrase ‘hot Athenator, and the concept of the polis is largely irrelevant to the way that non-philosophical Athenians viewed their political

society.!! I have two suggestions for the solution of this particular problem. The first has already been raised by yourself in previous discussions: I think you should revert to your original idea, and here and now renounce the use of the words

‘ethnikon’ and ‘ethnic’, replacing them with ‘politikon’ and ‘politic’.’* The second is that we should conduct a controlled experiment to determine in what ways the range of meanings of the politikon is significantly different from the polis-name, not on the Athenians, where the citations are surely too many, but

on some more manageable communities like the Mytilenaians or the Erxa-

236

OSWYN

dians. We

MURRAY

should consider every use of the politikon noun in the plural in

comparison to every example of the toponym or its description as a polis, and then consider whether the separation of examples referring to the inhabitants or citizens of a community from references to a named polis modifies our conception of the idea of the polis. My own suspicion is that it would not affect in any way our view of the polis as a settlement, but it might profoundly change our understanding of the Greek view of their political communities. We

should remember that even in a theoretical context Aristotle’s 158 politeiai . were all named in the form ‘the politeia of the Athentans’, not ‘the constitution : of Athens’, and that in the whole of his great work on Polinka, he offers no

substantive definition of the polis which is not intimately connected with the conception of the polis as

a community of citizens, as a citizen-state and not

a city-state.’ There is also an important consequence in the emphasis on the primacy of the word in the Hansen methodology. The Copenhagen team is going to considerable lengths to consider the archaeological evidence for city-plans and such other material as coin evidence, but artistic evidence in the main still

eludes them. Your essential basis is the literary evidence and the epigraphic document. As far as the polis is concerned, that tends to create a static picture centred

on the period when

Classical period from

the written

approximately

record

430-330

was

BC.

most

The

abundant

— the

gaze is inevitably

shifted away from the earlier period of the formation of a city-state culture, and from its later Hellenistic and Roman developments in non-Greek cultural areas and

wider

imperial

systems.

‘What

is the polis?’ can

too easily become

a

question more real than ‘How did the polis change over time? Did it remain the same type of institution over the millenium that it existed as a type of settlement?’ The problem of change is not easy, and is certainly not visible in the lexical analysis. I take two examples from the two periods of the greatest activity in the formation of new poleis, both of which fall outside the Classical period. Most people would agree with your general characterisation of the date and process ‘ of the formation

of Greek poleis. My

own

view is that the main

period of

formation of poleis can be seen as stretching from the mid-eighth century to

the late seventh century. During that period in the islands of the Aegean we find the abandonment of small nucleated settlements and their apparent replacement by central settlements, with a consequent apparent diminution of archaeological evidence in the seventh century due to the fact that in these central poleis the earliest evidence has been continuously overlaid by later . levels of settlement. In this period we find the first evidence of civic enterprise in temple planning, city walls, public space, drainage works in sites like Old

WHAT IS GREEK ABOUT THE POLIS?

237

Smyrna; we find the refoundation of cities on a planned basis, as at Eretria;

even when settlements remain in the same place we find the replanning of the civic activities, as at Athens, where the entrance to the Akropolis was reversed

and a whole area previously full of the tombs and wells associated with suburbs was now cleared and given over to the future public space of the city. We find new cities (colonies) being established in north Greece, the Propontis and the

Black Sea, and in Sicily, south Italy, France and Spain. The foundation myths of both new cities and those cities which remain geographically fixed share a tendency in this period to attribute to one man (who was not a god) the foundation or refoundation of the civic institutions: Lykourgos and Solon are as much polis founders as the formal oikistai of the western colonies. You have described this process in terms of a conflict between two theories, one which

regards polis formation as earlier than colonisation, the other colonisation as influencing polis formation in the homeland. I do think that this simple choice exists. The process of polis formation during the same period among all Greek communities, both new all came to see the advantages of new forms of organisation, and

which sees not myself took place and old, as all affected

each other: it is a typical example of the process of ‘peer polity interaction’ (to

use a concept whose importance I think you underestimate).'* This refusal to accept a causal or temporal connection between ‘polis-colony

and mother-city’ has important consequences for Mediterranean history; for it allows us to see polis formation by the Greeks as part of a wider pattern of Mediterranean settlement during what I and Walter Burkert have called the ‘orientalising period’: it was not just the Greeks who were founding cities at this time, it was

also the Phoenicians

among

other seafaring peoples,

and |

among indigenous communities it was the Etruscans, the Romans and the communities of Latium. I do not believe that all these peoples learned their city-building principles from the Greeks: indeed if we must provide an original

stimulus, I think that the old theory that the Phoenicians were the originators of the polis would best conform to the chronology, morphology and geographical spread of city-state urbanisation in the eighth and seventh centuries. As a form of social organisation even in the Mediterranean area the polis is not a Greek invention at all: it is just that we know more about the Greek polis than about the Phoenician or Etruscan or Roman ‘city-state’; but itis clear that

|

the Greeks were right to call these settlements too by the word polis, and a

number of the contributors to the conference who talked about Mediterranean and north European ancient cultures were describing what was essentially the

same phenomenon of the diffusion of a type of urban settlement through cultural contact. This process is surely one of diffusion, which must be consequent on the

.

238

OSWYN

MURRAY

. trade routes and cultural contacts established first by the Phoenicians and then by the Greeks;

it is part of that phenomenon

of the acculturation of tribal

_ areas. But such a model seems to imply in turn that the polis is not specifically a Greek invention, but an adaptation by the Greeks

of the type of trading

settlement that had developed on the Levantine coast. Trade therefore diffused the prototype across the Mediterranean. quium

also revealed

that the existence

But the proceedings of trading

links

and

of our collocontacts

is a

common feature of city-state cultures in world history: it was postulated for a

variety of examples from Malaysia to the Malagasy coast and Nigeria, in Assyria and in Meso-America. Our Mediterranean examples were simply one

widely diffused but nevertheless localised type which could be paralleled in ages and cultures which had possessed no contact with the Greek model. It is not indeed difficult to see why structurally the city-state model is especially suitable to trading settlements, since it combines a high degree of enterprise,

autonomy and self-help within the community with a network of contacts which produces a city-state culture across any given geographical space. Thus in two

different senses

the polis is not specifically Greek;

for it was

both

adapted from the Near East, and is also in many respects not different from other city-state cultures. In

the

Hellenistic

period

the

polis

system

was

in

contrast

a cultural

phenomenon, a settlement pattern imposed within multi-ethnic kingdoms by a dominant Greco-Macedonian elite on native populations; but these populations were excluded from participation in the institutions of the polis. This in turn surely presents a major shift in the functions of the polis. It had effectively lost for the most part its freedom to run its external affairs: even those cities declared free by the great kings found that their freedom was conditional

on being loyal allies of their protector. They retained for the most part internal self-government,

but though

they might

call themselves

democracies,

that

concept had radically changed: they were in fact a colonial elite of landowners

and rentiers combined with an urban bourgeoisie, apparently dominated by a council of notables or wealthier fellow-citizens. More importantly the chief function of the polis seems now to have been the maintenance minority

of a universalised

and

homogeneous

Hellenic

for a Greek

culture

within

a

plurality of native cultures — so that a citizen of Alexandreia might find himself

more at home in a polis on the borders of Afghanistan than in a small town in upper Egypt: throughout the Hellenistic world he would find the same institutions, the same language, and the same Delphic maxims carved in the

. same gymnasion context. To be the citizen of a polis was to have acquired in the educational system of the gymnasion

a particular literary, sporting and

, cultural set of values, which identified you as Greek and therefore entitled you

WHAT

IS GREEK ABOUT THE POLIS ?

239

to citizenship — and woe betide those Jews or others who sought to infiltrate

themselves into the cultural process. It was a bit like taking London University A Levels at Karachi Grammar School, and thus qualifying as a member of the educated elite of an Islamic Pakistan. But again there were surely many Italian, Phoenician, Iberian and Celtic communities that felt themselves to be living in poleis:

Glanum

(Saint

Blaise in Provence)

is a polis because

of its urban

structures and the institutional background that they imply, not because it is called a polis. And when the Romans arrived with their inclusive conception of citizenship, that is how they saw the civilising process, as the creation of civitates, where

the inhabitants would build templa, fora, domos, and would

finally “arrive at our style of life and don the toga, and little by little succumb to the seductions of vice, porticoes, baths and the elegance of banquets” (Tac. Agr. 21). Perhaps

the most

important

general

contnbution

that you

made

to the

direction of the discussion was in your insistence that for the purposes of comparison we should think in terms not of individual examples of the citystate, but of city-state cultures, that is of areas or societies that have the city-

state as their dominant form of organisation;’* as I was writing this paper I was forcibly reminded of the importance of this observation by the news in the daily paper (The Independent 25 May 1999 p. 9) that another great Maya city of the seventh

century AD

had

been found

in the jungle on the border between

Mexico and Guatemala. But curiously it is in this aspect of the interrelations between the Greek city-states that I and others at the colloquium found your

exposition most open to challenge. You claimed first of all that “from beginning to end the polets did not form a network of independent peer polities,

but a complicated hierarchy of self governing communities with other types of permanent political communities both above and below polis level.” Leaving

aside to what extent the divisions within the polis could be regarded as either permanent entities or communities natural or artificial," I find the idea of a hierarchy of communities above the polis very puzzling. Of course there were in different periods hegemonic cities, leagues, federations, empires; of course

some cities were conquered ‘and subordinate to others. In the end you were persuaded to modify your formulation to read “the city-states of a city-state

culture are not necessarily ‘peer polities’, but can be hierarchically organised systems of polities, of which some are hegemonic, some independent and some dependencies.” This is of course a view for which you have argued elsewhere.’” But it still seems to me that (disregarding the external conquests of the Lydian and Persian empires) until the late sixth century the majority of cities were actually

and

expected

themselves

to

be

independent.

The

reason

why

autonomia became a serious political issue in the fifth century Athenian empire

240

OSWYN MURRAY

and later in the fourth century was precisely because in this period it was for the first time being seriously undermined from within the Greek world. Autonomia was not a new discovery of the late fifth century: it was simply something which had been assumed before, and in the developing Athenian empire had to be defended increasingly explicitly by a juridical concept or a political slogan; the first appearance of a word does not necessarily mark the invention of a concept: it may equally represent the point at which a common assumption has come under serious challenge.'* In any case, in the context of ‘peer polity interaction’ it does not matter so much whether the polities are actually independent of each other, as whether they believed themselves so to be; for, as Renfrew saw, it is not so much the independence of peer polities

which is significant, but their interaction.'? I therefore still regard the ideal of independence as an important aspect of the ideology of the polis. Here it is also important to carry forward your views: if we consider citystates as belonging to systems, the most interesting thing about such a system is not the individual units of which it is composed, but the way they interact. There is surely another aspect of the Greek polis which needs to be taken into

account, alongside its ‘failure’ to achieve unity, empire, hegemony, federation or the nation-state; and that is its creation of the concept of inter-state relations — treaties, alliances, commercial law, ambassadorial status. If there is one thing that persuades us of the relationship between ancient polis and modern state

it is the similarities between the polis conception of inter-polis relations and our own apparently modern conceptions of the Staatsvertrag, international law and the whole apparatus of international relations. You know that I share many of your views about the Classical polis even where those views are controversial.

I am therefore not the best person to

criticise your central contentions. But I will highlight two aspects where your interpretation is not universally accepted. The first is the economy of the polis. The primitivist view of the polis as a community of subsistence farmers in a

peasant economy, with exchange and manufacture as peripheral activities, rests as you say on Moses Finley’s interpretation of Max Weber; but it also rests on

our written texts — for it is by and large the view that ancient philosophers and theorists of the polis wished to maintain.

I think you are right to reject this

view; but in order to do so you must of course abandon your insistence on

speaking as the ancient Greeks did about their idea of the polis, in favour of a modern interpretation based on the distribution of artefacts, and theories about the true nature of the agrarian economy and the patterns of Mediterranean

trade. The problem of the polis as a trading and a manufacturing community is once again related to the existence of a network of non-Greek trading partners, many of whom are themselves poleis: I fear a great deal of economic

WHAT IS GREEK ABOUT THE POLIS ? history

is going

to have

to be

rewritten

before

we

241 understand

fully the

significance of the ancient Mediterranean city-state - and perhaps of the world phenomenon of the city-state. Another sensitive point in comparative studies must be your interpretation of the nature of polis religion. I too have argued for a conception of the polis

as being essentially rational and based on political institutions; but we are very much in a minority. The prevalent view of the Greek city asserts that it is in origin and perhaps also in essence a religious organisation, which can be understood only in terms of its religious rituals, its gods and its festivals: the ancient city is in origin and always a community of worshippers. That view was first clearly formulated by Fustel de Coulanges, and both he and his followers from Durkheim to Mauss, Jeanmaire, Gernet and modern analysts like Pauline

Schmitt Pantel, have based their arguments on comparative study of other societies. This issue is therefore one which should surely be a focus of attention in any discussion of city-state cultures in world history. Is the city-state essentially a religious or a secular phenomenon?

That question was one which was posed dramatically at the colloquium by the presence of two representatives from the only surviving culture with a claim

to be considered a living ‘city-state culture’. For the communities of the Berber Mzab septapolis on the edge of the Algerian Sahara hold that their foundation in 1050 and their continuous existence ever since is a result of the acceptance

of a strict Islamic religious and social order within a non-militaristic ethical framework. For the Mzab the city-state is fundamentally a political organisation appropriate to a pacifistic religious community. It is not surprising

that the French tradition of anthropological research was the first to bring the communities of the Mzab to western attention, although paradoxically Emile Masqueray sought to use them in order to demonstrate the falsity of religious theories of the origin of the city.” Despite

this initial characterisation,

the

existence of the cities of the Mzab seems to lend strong support to the claim that we should consider religion alongside military, political and economic developments as an essential foundation of the city-state; for these communities seem to exemplify the general theories of Fustel de Coulanges more

closely than those of Max Weber (with his military ‘guild of warriors’ or his economic explanations)

or your juristic formulation in terms of the logic of

institutions. Should we then revert to the approach of Max Weber in his essay on the

city?) There he postulates a variety of types of city based on the city as market (consumer

and producer), the city as political system, the fortress city, the

commune city, the patrician city, the plebeian city. We might add the religious city, and consider city-state cultures under three heads, political, economic and

242

OSWYN MURRAY

religious. But in so doing would we not have come full circle, and simply be repeating the colloquium that you arranged? And we would still be no nearer the question with which I started: what is Greek about the polis?

On that issue I believe we both agree. The Greekness of the polis lies not in its organisation as a city-state, which it shared with many contemporary, earlier and later examples of the city-state, nor in its economic or religious structures, which

were

also common

to many

other examples

of the city-state. It lies

rather in the form of political rationality that the Greeks chose to substitute for other forms of communal tie, whether social, religious, military or economic.

But I have argued before, and you and I are still arguing about the sense in

which the polis was or was not essentially a city of reason.”” And since you have accepted my not entirely serious suggestion that your final colloquium should

be on ‘the imaginary polis”, I suppose that our conversation will continue as we

ride off into the sunset.”

BIBLIOGRAPHY Bauer, S. 1998. Poltsbild und Demokratieverständnis in Jacob Burckhardts “Griechische Kulturgeschichte”, Historisches Institut der RWTH (Aachen). Burckhardt, J. 1998. The Greeks and Greek Civilization, translation of selections from Gnechische Kulturgeschichte, translated by 5. Stern and edited by O. Murray (London). Fustel de Coulanges, N.D. 1864, La cite annique (Panis). Gawantka, W. 1985. Die Sogenannte Polis (Stuttgart). Hansen, M.H. 1993. “The Polis as a Citizen-State,” CPC Acts 1: 7-29. Hansen, M.H. 1994a. “Polis, Civitas, Stadtstaat and City-State,” CPCPapers 1: 19-22. Hansen, M.H. 1994b. “Poleis and City-States, 600-323 B.C. A Comprehensive Research Programme,”

CPCPapers

1: 9-17.

Hansen, M.H.

1995a. “Boiotian Poleis - A Test Case,” CPCActs 2: 13-63.

Hansen, M.H.

1995b. “The ‘Autonomous City-State’. Ancient Fact or Modern Fiction?,”

CPCPapers 2: 21-43. Hansen,

M.H.

1996a. “Πολλαχῶς

πόλις λέγεται (Arist. Pol. 1276823).

The

Copenhagen

Inventory of Poleis and the Lex Hafniensis de Civitate,” CPCActs 3: 7-72. Hansen, ΜΗ. 1996b. “City-Ethnics as Evidence for Polis Identity,” CPC Papers 3: 169-196. Hansen, M.H. 1998. Polis and City-State. An Ancient Concept and us Modern Equivalent, CPCActs 5 (Copenhagen). Hansen, M.H. 2000a. A Comparative Study of Thirty City-State Cultures. An Investigation Conducted by the Copenhagen Polis Centre (Copenhagen). Hansen, M.H.

2000b. “The Hellenic Polis,” in Hansen

* See Mel Brooks, Blazing Saddles (1974).

(2000a)

141-187.

WHAT

IS GREEK ABOUT THE POLIS ?

243

Hansen, M.H. 2000c. “The Concepts of City-State and City-State Culture,” in Hansen (2000a) 11-34. Masqueray, E. 1886. Formanon des cités chez les populations sédentatres de l’Algérie (Paris); reprint Aix-en-Provence (1983) with preface by Fanny Colonna. Murray, O. 1987. “Cities of Reason,” Archives Europeennes de Sociologie 28: 325-346. Murray, O. 1991. “History and Reason in the Ancient City,” BSR 59: 1-13. Murray, O. 1993a. “Polis and Politeia in Aristotle,” CPCActs 1: 197-210.

Murray, O. 1993b. Early Greece? (London). Murray, O. 1997. “Rationality and the Greek City. The Evidence from Kamarina,” CPC Acts 4: 493-504.

Murray, O. & Price, 5. (eds.). 1990. The Greek City from Homer to Alexander (Oxford). Ober, J. 1993. “The Polis as a Society. Aristotle, John Rawls and the Athenian Social Contract,” CPCActs 1: 129-160. Ostwald, M. 1982. Autonomia. Its Genesis and Early History, American Classical Studies 11

(New York). Weber, M. 1978. Economy and Society, ch. xvi = English translation of Die Stadt. Eine Soziologische Untersuchung, edited by G. Roth & C. Wittich (Berkeley).

ewe

NOTES The proceedings of this ‘working symposion’ have been published in Hansen (20008) (Eds.). Hansen’s two contributions have been published as Hansen (2000b) and Hansen (2000c) (Eds.). This is to be published in a forthcoming volume of CPCFapers. Gawantka (1985). I have benefited from reading the more balanced account in the unpublished

Magisterarbeit of Bauer (1998), a copy of which is in the Warburg Institute Library, London. 5.

See the facsimile of the manuscript used as a frontispiece to my edited translation of Burckhardt (1998), where a reference to La cité antique appears at the top of the page. The late arrival of Fustel de Coulanges in Burckhardt’s consciousness, and the fundamental differences between their approaches to the polis, are noted by Burckhardt’s nephew and first editor, Jacob Oeri, in the first edition of volume I of the Griechische Kulturgeschichte (Nachtrag 9). .

Hansen

(1998)

112.

7.

Hansen

(1994a).

8.

Litalicise Greek words here and elsewhere when I wish to indicate that they should be regarded as transliterations.

9.

Hansen

10.

Cf. especially Hansen (1993) 7-9.

(1996a) esp. 33.

11.

Cf. Hansen

12.

Hansen (1995a) 63 n. 189.

13. 14.

For some of the questions that this raises see the papers of Ober (1993) and Murray (1993a). For my views on the development of the polis see Murray (1993b) 62-65, 102-103. For Hansen’s objections to features of Renfrew's ‘peer polity interaction’ see below. This has been a feature of the Copenhagen approach from the start: see Hansen (1994b) esp. 913.

15. 16.

(1996b).

17.

On their impermanence and artificiality see my second contribution to a Copenhagen conference, Murray (1997). Hansen (1995b).

18.

See especially Ostwald (1982) 14-48.

OSWYN MURRAY

244 19.

Contra Hansen

20.

Masqueray (1886); reprint Aix-en-Provence,

(19946)

13. 1983 with preface by Fanny Colonna. I agree with

Colonna that, although Masqueray nowhere mentions Fustel, his book aims to refute “les idées a pron aussi chimériques que séduisantes” (p. 222) on the origins of the ancient and especially the Roman city: see especially the last chapter, "Rome primitive comparée aux cités de la Kabylie et du Mezab’, pp. 221-258. His conclusion is deliberately opposed to that of Fustel: “[les cités] procédent indépendamment de toute idée religieuse, du désir qu’ont naturellement les hommes de s’assurer la plus grande part possible de liberté personnelle, que loin d'être un prolongement des institutions étroites de la famille, elles se développent en dehors d’elles, et leur sont méme

contraires des le premier moment de leur existence” (p. 20). 21.

English translation, Economy and Sociery edited by G. Roth & C. Wittich (Berkeley 1978) ch. xvi.

22.

See especially Murray (1987), the original form with the comments of M.H. Hansen appended; the main text was reprinted in Murray & Price (1990)

1-25. See also Murray (1991).

Part II

POLITICS IN THE POLIS

Political Ideology: Democracy and Oligarchy

Zeus Eleutherios, Dionysos the Liberator,

and the Athenian Tyrannicides. Anachronistic Uses of Fifth-Century Political Concepts KURT A. RAAFLAUB

In his numerous and enormously useful studies of Athenian democracy and the

Greek polis, Mogens

Hansen has demonstrated a keen interest in political

terminology. He has offered acute observations not least on three key terms of the fifth-century vocabulary

(isonomia, eleutheria and autonomia).'

Hence,

I

hope, it is appropriate to offer him as a birthday gift a few comments on issues involving precisely these terms. I will begin with some remarks on the methodological problems we encounter in reconstructing or evaluating the use of

political terminology in early documents or in historical reports on early events; I will then analyze two specific cases (the guarantee of autonomia to Plataiai in 479 and the foundation of a cult of Zeus Eleutherios on Samos in 522) where a historical report is contradicted decisively by the evidence that survives on

terminological developments; pursuing the question of when the cult of Zeus Eleutherios was introduced in Athens, I will also discuss a recent theory about the

Great

Dionysia

as a late-sixth-century

“freedom

festival”;

and

I will

conclude by discussing various attempts at reconstructing the text of documents concerned

with the Athenian Tyrannicides. The

utie of this essay is

deliberately paradoxical: Zeus Eleutherios and the Athenian Tyrannicides had nothing to do with each other -- although if the latter had committed their deed half a century later they might have been connected with the god, and scholars

filling in the gaps in fragmentary inscriptions sometimes argue as if this connection had in fact been established by their ume. Nor was Dionysos celebrated as liberator from tyranny -- although to much

later generations it

might not have seemed too difficult to establish this connection either.

I. Retrojection and adaptation In 1960 Michael Jameson published the text of an inscription found probably

on the north side of the ancient agora of Troizen. Dated by its letter forms to

250

KURT A. RAAFLAUB

the late fourth or, more likely, the mid-third century, the inscription purports to reproduce the famous decree, moved by Themistokles and passed by the assembly in 480, in which the Athenians ordered the evacuation of women and children to Troizen, that of the old men and movable possessions to Salamis,

and the mobilization of their entire war fleet to meet the approaching Persians.” The

decree

is mentioned

by

Herodotus

(7.144.3)

and

was

“quoted”

by

Aischines in 343 in the tnal concerning the “false embassy” (Dem. 19.303 with scholia). Jameson’s publication of the “Themistokles Decree” prompted an intense

scholarly debate on the authenticity of this document. Much of this debate focused on verbal and factual anachronisms — or what were perceived as such. The extreme positions were established quickly: Jameson admitted that not only the spelling but also some details (such as Themistokles’ patronymic and demotic) were added later (perhaps on the basis of a fourth-century copy), but on the whole he considered the text authentic, corresponding in style and content to what one would expect to find in a text of the early fifth century. Christian Habicht, by contrast, concluded that the inscription “undoubtedly

represents

a reconstruction

fabricated

in the

elaborated

on the basis of the Herodotean

fourth

tradition,

century

which

was

is full of factual and

stylistic anachronisms as well as rhetorical phrases typical of the fourth century and

thus

cannot

claim

any

documentary

authenticity.”

An

intermediate

position might insist that the factual kernel of the decree cited in the inscription must have followed closely whatever historical information was available on the actual decree of 480, while in style and terminology it was largely adapted to

fourth-century usage.’ One of the arguments proposed by Benjamin Meritt is relevant for my present purposes: The

detractors say flatly that the Themistokles

fourth century,

and

condemn

detractor has comprehended

it for its many

decree dates from the anachronisms.

What

no

is that the anachronisms do not matter.

Themistokles is named, with patronymic and demotic, as the orator. In

the early fifth century he would have been named by nomen alone. But we are not dealing with a fifth-century text. We

are dealing with a third-

century copy of a fifth-century text, and the addition of patronymic and demotic to the name was pure routine to a mid-fourth-century or thirdcentury copyist. We do not know how many times the text was copied

until it came to have the form in which we know it.* This argument is perfectly legitimate — even if we have no evidence for such an ongoing process of copying. What

seems crucial to me is that ancient poli-

ZEUS ELEUTHERIOS,

DIONYSOS THE LIBERATOR

251

ticians, orators, and copyists had no sense of responsibility to the authentic wording of an old text or document. While adhering to the gist of the text transmitted by oral or written tradition, they naturally rephrased both content

and wording in ways that corresponded to the expectations and usage of their own time. Hence, quite apart from the possibility of outright invention, we need to distinguish sharply between the original text of a document and the later version(s) in which this document is preserved. Since we do not know the frequency and scope of adaptation, we cannot confidently reconstruct form or content

of the former

if we

happen

to have

only the latter.

This

applies

especially to political terminology: unless a specific term is attested independently before, at, or near the time of the original document, we cannot know whether it was used in the original document, however natural it appears

in the later version(s) and however appropriate it might seem to us even in the former. Mutatis mutandis, this is true for the historians’ narratives as well: they

naturally described the past with the words and political concepts of their own time; without independent confirmation we cannot know whether such words

and concepts were really used in the time described. The methodological consequences of recognizing this natural habit of retrojection and continuous adaptation are serious and need to be taken seriously.

When trying, for example, to supplement the text of a fragmentary inscription or poem, we need to take into account how far the political terminology in question had developed by the time this document or poem was composed; when assessing the wording of a specific historical narrative, we need to inquire whether the political terms the historian uses were familiar to the contemporaries of the events he describes. Let me illustrate this with two case studies, one less, the other more controversial.

II. Plataian autonomia

The first case concerns the guarantee the Spartan commander-in-chief Pausanias supposedly offered the Plataians after the battle that was fought near their polis in 479. It is mentioned in the speech Thucydides gives to the Plataians when they are attacked by the Spartans early in the Peloponnesian War (summer 429). The Spartans, they say, commit injustice by campaigning

against Plataiai. For after the Greek victory over the Persians Pausanias sacrificed to Zeus Eleutherios and in an assembly “gave back to the Plataians the right to occupy their own land and city and live there in autonomy (autonomous).” Hence, the Plataians conclude, “we call on you not to do wrong against the land of Plataiai, and not to break your oaths, but to allow us to live

252

KURT A. RAAFLAUB

in autonomy (autonomous) as Pausanias judged right” (Thuc. 2.71.2, 4; transl. Rhodes [1988], modified). The Spartan king, Archidamos, responds: “As Pausanias granted to you, be autonomous yourselves (autonomeisthe) and join in liberating the others” (2.72.1).

Here we have no less than three layers: Thucydides, writing or revising his work at the very end of the fifth century, formulates speeches supposedly given thirty years earlier, and in these mentions an event that happened, and specific

terminology that was supposedly used in this event, another fifty years earlier. All these references to Plataian autonomia occur in speeches. This forces us to be especially cautious:

speeches are among

the historian’s most

artefacts, even if he tried to incorporate authentic material known

distinctive to him.’

Theoretically, the term autonomia, here represented by an adjective and verb, could have emerged shortly before the time when Thucydides was revising his

work; it would then have been imported by him into the speeches of 429 and the references to Pausanias’ guarantee of 479 because this term expressed aptly what this guarantee was all about. In fact, however,

the word

autonomos is

attested from the late 440s (below, n. 66) and well-documented

in the last

third of the century. A clause guaranteeing Aigina’s autonomy in the Thirty Years’ Peace of 446, although not mentioned

before Thucydides

either, is

supported by his account of the negotiations between Sparta and Athens in 432. If the latter is trustworthy, which nobody doubts, the former most likely is authentic. Hence the Thirty Years’ Peace is the terminus ante quem at least for the adjective autonomos.° Since we know that the problem of autonomia was very much in people’s minds and played a major role in diplomacy and political conflicts in the late 430s and early 420s,’ it would have been perfectly normal, and in the given

situation highly appropriate,

for the Plataians

in 429

to emphasize

their

traditional autonomia. Even if we cannot tell how closely Thucydides’ rendition

of these particular negotiations matches historical reality, we may thus consider the use of autonomia in these negotiations authentic. Whether Pausanias mentioned this term already in 479 is an entirely different question. This date lies more

than thirty years before its first directly and indirectly confirmed

usage. Scholars have offered plausible reasons why the term autonomia was coined precisely in the specific political constellation of -- and not earlier than ~ the mid-fifth century.” Sound methodology thus forces us to assume that it was not part of the Spartan general’s vocabulary in 479,’ and that Thucydides (or, for that matter, the Plataians) here did indeed retroject later terminology

into an earlier context.’°

ZEUS ELEUTHERIOS, DIONYSOS THE LIBERATOR

253

III. Zeus Eleutherios in late sixth-century Samos?

The other example concerns the cult of Zeus Eleutherios in Samos.'' According to Herodotus, after the death of Polykrates in 522, one Maiandrios, left in charge as “deputy tyrant” when his boss went abroad, tried to abdicate volun-

tarıly. He erected a shrine for Zeus Eleutherios and announced his decision in an assembly, proclaiming isonomia and eleutheria for the citizens and requesting for himself only six talents from Polykrates’ treasure and the life-long priesthood of the new cult. The hostility he encountered on the part of the Samian

elite convinced him, however, that it was better to hold on to tyranny. Herodotus concludes: “Apparently the Samians did not want to be free” (3.142-43). This story has generally been taken seriously. Scepticism, however, has been expressed concerning a rather long section of “Samian logos” which includes

this particular story.'? The basic fact underlying it, that after Polykrates’ death Maiandrios distinguished himself by attempting to replace tyranny with a more aristocratic and in that sense more egalitarian (“isonomic”) form of govern-

ment, is conceivably based on accurate tradition.!? The details certainly are not. The entire episode receives stark relief if it is read against Athenian experiences of the second half of the fifth century, highlighting both parallels and contrasts. More specifically, in its mode of thought and terminology, Maian-

drios’ speech, like all of Herodotus’ speeches, reflects thoughts and sentiments of the historian and his time, not of the late sixth century; its intellectual af-

finity to the “constitutional debate” (3.80-82) is unmistakable.'* What is particularly troubling is the use of eleutheria, freedom, and the story of the establishment of the cult of Zeus Eleutherios. While an argument can be made that isonomia existed already in the sixth century as an aristocratic value

term that was specifically opposed to tyranny,'? this is not true for eleutheria. Solon mentions the enslavement (doulosyne) of citizens as the inevitable con-

sequence of tyranny but he never equates the condition of non-tyranny with eleutheria. Although this might seem, and perhaps is, accidental, due to the chances of text survival, we have to work with what we have, not with what we

might have. Moreover, this peculiar use of terminology, as indicated by the currently available evidence, can be explained plausibly, and it accords with the fact that, as things stand, the terminology of freedom seems to have emerged

as opposite to tyranny only more than a century after Solon.'® The same applies for the cult of Zeus Eleutherios. Ignoring the Samian case

for a moment, this cult is attested first in Plataiai, where it was established by Pausanias in 479 (mentioned above); it was introduced in Syracuse in 466-

465, after the overthrow of the tyrant Thrasyboulos. A few other cases are known;

those

that can be dated

fall into the same

period,

at the earliest.

254

KURT A. RAAFLAUB

Overall,

on the basis of a fairly broad

range

of literary and

documentary

evidence presently available, the conclusion is inevitable that freedom was discovered as a political value during the Persian Wars: it was applied to the polis in its fight against the threat of Persian subjection or enslavement, and

almost immediately transferred, on the one hand, to the religious sphere where it found expression in a new cult for Zeus the God of Freedom, and, on the other

hand,

to

the pols’

domestic

sphere

where

the

absence

of tyranny

(threatened by Persian victory) was now equated with the citizens’ freedom as well.” Now the earliest cases that can be dated (in Plataiai and Syracuse) show that the cult was linked to experiences that had extraordinary significance for the

community or communities involved and concerned fundamentally political events. Since it was primarily the community as a whole that was affected, not the individual o1kes, citizen, or human being, such a cult could be fostered only by the entire community.

It was thus really a political cult. The god’s new

epithet was derived directly from the nature of the collective experience that had prompted the establishment of the new cult: Zeus was venerated as “God of Freedom”

because he was credited with the decisive support needed

to

achieve liberation from an external enemy or tyrant. Athens, too, had a cult of Zeus Eleutherios.

As we shall see in the next

section, this cult in all likelihood was also introduced after and in reaction to

the experience of the Persian Wars. The ascertainable history of the cult of Zeus Eleutherios in the Greek world thus does not bode well for the historicity of Herodotus’ story that such a cult was founded on Samos in 522. Not only

would this particular cult have been in existence almost half a century before the earliest of the other political cults of this type, it was also unusual in every respect. It was founded not by a community, in gratitude to the god for its liberation,

but by the tyrant himself,

as a gesture

of good

intended abdication. It looks suspiciously as if, in Herodotus’

will before

his

presentation,

Maiandrios had wanted to make his intention more credible by scrupulously

following the protocol usual in such cases — except that the protocol was in fact different, was established only decades later, and known to Herodotus but not possibly to Maiandrios.

Moreover,

the latter’s plan to step down was never

carried out; he held on to power, his tyranny turned out to be more brutal than that of his predecessor, and soon it was replaced by a Persian vassal tyranny: “until 480 Samos was mostly a pawn in the hands of Persia.”'® Neither for Maiandrios and his successors nor for the community of Samos was there any reason to continue fostering a cult of Zeus Eleutherios. Had it been founded, it would have survived the ceremony only by a few hours. Finally, given these arguments against historicity, the total absence ofa corresponding tradition on

ZEUS ELEUTHERIOS,

DIONYSOS THE LIBERATOR

255

the actual overthrow, a good ten years later, of the Athenian tyranny makes the Samian account even less believable. Hence, on the basis of all the evidence currently available, I conclude

that this is not an authentic tradition but a

historicizing fiction, a depiction of events as they might have been imagined in Herodotus’ time, after the Persian Wars and after the founding of the cult of Zeus Eleutherios in Syracuse. Herodotus, admittedly, seems to have seen the shrine himselfin a suburb of Samos

(3.142.2).

Since he lived on Samos for a while and his information

about conditions there — to the extent that it can be verified - seems reliable, there is no reason to doubt the existence of such a shrine i7 his nme. But this

does not mean that he offers, or was presented with, the correct explanation of its origin. His informants may well have given him a false account, either to serve their own ends (such as perhaps the family interests of the cult’s priests) or because they themselves lacked precise knowledge; alternatively, Herodotus himself, unable to obtain precise information, may have established a connection that corresponded to general knowledge available in his time on cults of Zeus Eleutherios, seemed reasonable to him, and served his interpretative purposes.'”

In any case, I consider it virtually certain that the cult of the

Samian Zeus Eleutherios originated no earlier than the fall of 479, when Samos

was liberated from both Persian and tyrannical rule, and that the story of its

much earlier origin could have been invented only after that time.”

IV. Zeus Eleutherios and Dionysos the Liberator in late sixth-century Athens? The Athenian cult of Zeus Eleutherios is attested probably in the early second half of the fifth century by a fragmentary inscription on a stone marker and certainly in the early fourth century by a decree and literary testimonia. The cult site was on the west side of the Agora, next to the Stoa Basileios; from the

late fifth century, it was adorned by the magnificent Stoa of Zeus Eleutherios and a statue of the god. Two versions were known about the origins of this cult. One, told by the orator Hypereides, claimed that the stoa was built by exeleutheroi (freedmen or otherwise liberated persons); it was refuted by the first-century grammarian Didymos who connected the name with the liberation from the Persian threat. Whether or not, as some scholars assume, Hypereides’ interpretation is simply an indirect or metaphorical allusion to the same event, it is obvious that Didymos’ etiology is preferable and freedmen were linked to

the stoa only after Zeus had been given the epithet Eleutherios.”! This most likely occurred

between

479

and

roughly

the middle

of the century,

pre-

256

KURT ἃ. RAAFLAUB

sumably, following the Plataian model, shortly after the Persian Wars.” At

any

rate,

there

is not

a shred

of evidence

that

the

Athenian

Zeus

Eleutherios was ever linked with the overthrow of tyranny in 510. In this city a strong anti-tyranny ideology developed

in the fifth century that kept the

events of the late sixth alive in people’s minds. The tyrannicides of 514 became the heroes of democracy and were honored, among much else, by statues in the Agora. The question of who deserved most credit for the expulsion of the tyrants was

still an issue of controversy and rivalry many

decades

later. If

anywhere, the argument from silence is valid here: had a special cult arisen in

this connection, we would know about it.” Hence I consider it certain that the cult of Zeus Eleutherios was motivated in Athens not by the overthrow of the tyrant but, at the earliest, one generation later by the subsequent deliverance

from the Persian threat.” But was there perhaps another cult that represented, and with which the Athenians celebrated, their liberation from tyranny? This is what Robert Connor

proposed ten years ago in an article that has received considerable

attention. His thesis is based on the tradition, which in its core is not to be doubted, that Dionysos was brought to Athens from Eleutherai, a village on the border of Boiotia which

attached

itself to Athens

at an uncertain date

probably in the second half of the sixth century. Hence this Athenian Dionysos bore the epithet Eleuthereus; he received a sanctuary on the south slope of the Akropolis, to which

the “theater of Dionysos”

was attached when

the per-

formances in the god’s honor were moved there from the Agora. Specifically, Connor’s thesis is twofold: (1) The festival of the City Dionsysia was estab-

lished after the fall of tyranny and the reforms of Kleisthenes, at the very end of the sixth century. believed

It was

hitherto by most

at that time created scholars,

reorganized

festival that dated back at least to the 530s,

as a new

festival, not, as

on the basis

if not much

of an earlier

earlier, and was

organized or reorganized by the Peisistratids. (2) This festival was at least “in

part a celebration of the freedom which Athenians saw as an important feature of their democracy.””

The

first thesis receives some

support

from Martin

West, who simultaneously questioned the festival’s traditional chronology and the evidence upon which it is based. The second thesis has been accepted by Paul Cartledge, who emphasizes as well that “Dionysos was also himself a god of liberation” and suggests that it might not be “stretching the imagination or the evidence too far to see the newly institutionalised theatre-festival of the

Dionysia as a festival of democratic liberation.”?°

On the other hand, Robin

Osborne, Christiane Sourvinou-Inwood, and Frank Kolb have advanced

ser-

ious arguments against Connor’s first thesis, and Robert Parker concludes his own discussion of the issue by recognizing that too much is uncertain: “the

ZEUS ELEUTHERIOS, DIONYSOS THE LIBERATOR

257

question about tragedy’s first patrons must remain tantalizingly unresolved.””’ At any rate, this question is not crucial for my present purposes. The second

thesis, however, if correct, directly affects my conclusions concerning the time when and reasons why the concept of freedom was politicized. I thus need to deal with it in some detail. Connor supports his thesis with a variety of arguments. I summarize them and add my comments. To avoid circularity, I leave it open in this section when the concept of freedom was in fact politicized. (1) Especially in the decade after the overthrow of tyranny, the symbolism

of the name Eleutherai, that is, its similarity to eleuthena, must have been obvious to the Athenians. In a footnote, Connor adds that in Rome Dionysos was equated with Liber, that Latin Aber and Greek eleutheros are cognate, and that in 496, a few years after the overthrow of the tyranny of Tarquinius Superbus, the Romans built a sanctuary for Ceres, Liber and Libera (Demeter,

Dionysos, and Kore/Persephone).” The analogy seems perfect — but is it? Although Connor does not place much emphasis on this point, it is illuminating to examine it more closely. Indeed, eleutheros and kber are both derived from the Indo-European root

*leudh. This root primarily designates growth, secondarily the community of common descent and belonging, the people (German Leute), and thus eventually the free, as opposed to those who do not belong, the outsiders and eventu-

ally the unfree.” It is thus natural that Dionysos, the god of fertility and growth, was identified in Italy with Liber, an old Italic deity of fields and harvests, who formed a triad with his consort Libera and with Ceres and to whom the Liberalia, a festival of fertility in March, was dedicated.” The sanctuary of Ceres, Liber, and Libera, which soon became the center of plebeian activity, was on the Aventine, outside of the pomerium, the sacred boundary of the city, just like the temple of Mercurius, founded around the same time. The

reasons for foundation and location were similar in both cases: for various reasons, Rome was under great pressure and threatened by food shortages which made it necessary to import grain; hence the favor of these particular

deities was crucial, and their activity focused on the world outside of the city walls.*' Neither of these cults had anything to do with Rome’s liberation from the tyrant, which mostly benefited the patrician elite, not the plebeians, and is a murky issue anyway, much distorted in later tradition. The concems of the

plebeians at that time focused on other issues: economic survival, social inte-

gration, and their relations with the domineering patricians.” It is Jupiter Liber (or Jupiter Libertas) who seems to be the Roman adaptation of Zeus Eleutherios, imported apparently from Syracuse in the Second

Punic War; he may

have had an ancestor among the Oscans, but the evidence is scarce and un-

certain.”

258

KURT A. RAAFLAUB

Hence the Roman “analogy” is less helpful to Connor’s case than might be expected, What about the symbolism of the name Eleutherai? No doubt, from

the time when eleutheria became an important political term, the name of the town from which Dionysos had come to Athens might have resonated with positive associations. Whether it did so already in the late sixth century, we

cannot

know

because

we

lack

independent

confirming

evidence.”

The

question is, moreover, how the name Eleutherai is to be explained. Based on

the myth that Dionysos drove the daughters of Eleuther mad, George Thomson concludes that the cult of Dionysos Eleuthereus once belonged to a thiasos of women. “Indeed it may well have been this thiasos that gave the village its name; for hat eleutherai is equivalent to hat aphetat, women who have been ‘set free’ or ‘let loose’.” Eleuther, however, is an old epithet of Dionysos, attested

already

in Mycenaean

texts and probably

derived

from

the god’s

connection with growth and fertility; most likely this is the origin of the place

name.” Furthermore, the god had, in Thebes and later — perhaps, as the ancients thought,

really under

Theban

influence - in Korinth

and

Sikyon,

another

epithet, Lysios, which described precisely his function as a “looser” who promised to unbind his followers from all kinds of fetters, physical, emotional, and psychological.” If Thebes was indeed the Greek Dionysos, we may assume

“epicenter”

of the cult of

that /yeim initially was the primary word used in

Dionysiac contexts in Boiotia, Attika and probably everywhere else. To us such “loosening”

is identical with “liberation,” and by the late fifth century the

Athenians too used /yein and eleutheroun almost interchangeably. But this does

not permit us to take it for granted that their ancestors in the time of Kleisthenes did the same, and it is perfectly possible that they found it less obvious or important than we might think to associate Eleutherai with eleutheros. At any rate, the evidence of the Bacchae, the only extant play with a Dionysiac theme, performed ficant: the theme

a century after the overthrow of tyranny, is signi-

of binding vs. unbinding,

releasing, loosening recurs fre-

quently, both concretely and metaphorically, and is expressed by a great variety of formulations, including Zyein and compounds, which vastly outnumber the

few instances of eleutheroun vel sim.” Perhaps even more importantly, Pentheus, from whose oppression Dionysos frees the women, citizens, polis, and, of course, himself, is never called a tyrant, and the struggle between oppression and liberation is envisioned only marginally, if at all, in political terms. And finally, among all the epithets the god carried in his many places of worship

one is conspicuously absent: Eleutherios!” (2) Not unexpectedly, the god’s ability to release from bonds was extended into spheres that initially, I presume, were alien to him. Hence the Theban cult

ZEUS ELEUTHERIOS, DIONYSOS THE LIBERATOR

259

etiology explains the epithet “Lysios” with Dionysos’ freeing some Boiotians who had been captured by Thrakians. The earliest source for this story is Herakleides

Pontikos

in the fourth century.

Aischines

refers to a custom,

outlawed by his time, to proclaim the manumission of slaves during the Great Dionysia, and the liberation of satyrs is a firmly established component of fifthcentury satyr plays. This specific connection seems to result from the equation

of lyein with eleutheroun; we observed earlier a similar and equally secondary connection between

the manumission

of slaves and the cult of Zeus Eleu-

therios.* From here it was but a short step to assigning to Dionysos even a political role as god of freedom. example,

This function,

in the festivities

in Eretria

Connor in 308

points out, is attested, for

at the

occasion

of the polis’

liberation from Makedonian oppression and in Athens in 307, when Demetrios Poliorketes restored the city’s liberty after Kassandros’ oppressive regime. We should note, however, that these are two cases among many in which other gods assumed similar functions.“ Hence such Hellenistic cult honors for kings and dynasts do not confirm a specific function of Dionysos as a “god of freedom.” Moreover, events and celebrations in the late fourth century tell us

nothing about much earlier periods, and in the absence of earlier evidence I consider it more than doubtful that the Athenians in 307 “deliberately echoed the patterns developed two centuries earlier.”

(3) Behind both these celebrations and the establishment of the City Dionysia, Connor suggests, there may have been “a common ritual pattern used to celebrate the end of an oppressive rule,” which may have included garlanding, a komos, the music of auloi, and sometimes Dionysiac and phallic elements. Connor gives as examples of such celebrations the razing of the walls of Athens in 404, the razing of Dionysios’ house in Syracuse after his overthrow by Timoleon in 343/2

(both of which he describes as “freedom festi-

vals”), and choral dances celebrating liberation from tyranny in Greek tragedy. He points out rightly, moreover, that this pattern resembles the welcoming celebration

offered to victorious

athletes returning

from

panhellenic

com-

petitions.”’ As it happens, however, neither of these “freedom festivals” features an explicit Dionysiac element (such as the god’s presence or a phallophoria), and the analogy with the welcoming of panhellenic victors shows that we are dealing here with a much broader pattern of festive celebrations that was

naturally applied

as well

to the experience

of liberation but was

not

intrinsically tied to such an experience.“ Moreover, it seems remarkable that we have no information about the razing of the house of the Peisistratids in 510. (4) Given the civic and political significance of the City Dionysia and of the

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KURT A. RAAFLAUB

themes that were played out on stage during this festival, Connor thinks, we should not overlook the fact that the topic of liberty plays a central role in fifth-

century tragedy.*? Of course this is significant, but for the development of the consciousness of liberty in the period after the Persian Wars, when all the extant plays were performed and we know for certain that eleutheria quickly rose to high prominence in Athenian ideology and political discourse. Again, it is methodologically unsound to draw conclusions from this evidence for an earlier period for which we have hardly any evidence at all.“ I am far from denying the possibility that Connor may be right after all, but as things stand now, we lack the means to confirm this. Moreover, as in the

case of Zeus Eleutherios, in this particular city with its highly developed ideology of freedom,

I consider the argument from silence significant. The

Dionysia was, in a very general and broad sense, a festival celebrating the loosening of bonds, the letting loose of people who normally lived under all kinds of constraints. Contemporaries called this experience /yein. We naturally talk of “liberation”; so did Athenians, at least later in the fifth century. Whether their ancestors anticipated this already in the late sixth century we do not know. But this is not Connor’s point. The evidence he adduces does not prove or even support his more specific thesis that the Great Dionysia was,

from that very time, among other things a freedom festival celebrating the polis’ liberation from tyranny. At some point, if Aristophanes is to be taken seriously, perhaps soon after 510, perhaps later, the annual proclamation of a decree was

introduced at the festival, promising a reward for killing any of the tyrants.*” Even this does not bring us closer to a celebration of liberty. What we have learned to understand much better in recent years, however — not least thanks to Connor’s work - is that this festival, like many others, was central to the Athenians’ sense of community and civic ideology. It was thus a highly political event. For this reason it began with political ceremonies that were important for the entire citizen body and polis: the discharge of the war

orphans raised at public expense and the display of the imperial tribute, among others. These must have been additions to the festival, motivated by the city’s rise to imperial power. Hence the festival developed and adjusted to changing civic concerns.* Quite probably, the ideology of freedom, emerging during and

after the Persian Wars, left its mark as well. Unfortunately, we do not know how this was expressed at the festival beyond the fact that tragedy, intent on dramatizing concerns that were crucial to the community, paid much attention

to the aspect of freedom as well.’

ZEUS ELEUTHERIOS, DIONYSOS THE LIBERATOR

261

V. Isonomia, eleutheria, autonomia, and the Athenian Tyrannicides I now turn to three documents that have been connected with various monu-

ments set up in Athens for the Tyrannicides, Harmodios and Aristogeiton. I first present the evidence as it stands at this point. The first monument

is the statue group of the Tyrannicides

sculpted by

Antenor and set up in the Agora; most scholars seem to date it to the last decade of the sixth century but some have proposed considerably later dates; what it looked like is unknown.

troops

and

brought

back

This monument

to Athens

only

was carried off by Xerxes’

after Alexander’s

conquest

of

Persepolis. It was replaced on the Agora in 477 by a second monument, the

statue group of Kritios and Nesiotes which we know well from later replicas and echoes especially in fifth-century vase painting.“ The third monument, entirely unknown, presumably stood in the Athenian public cemetery (demosion

sema) and adorned the tomb of the Tyrannicides; its date is uncertain.*” The first and best known document is the inscription from a statue base found in a Turkish fill on the Agora and published by Benjamin Meritt in 1936 (henceforth “Agora Inscription”).” What survives are the ends of two elegiac distichs.

Ἱβαρμόδιοίς παϊτρίδα γῆν ἐθέτεν. The first (]Jharmodio[) is part of a distich cited by Hephaistion: “Truly, a great

light arose for the Athenians when Aristogeiton and Harmodios killed Hipparchos,””' ἡ μέγ᾽ ᾿Αθηναίοισι φόως γένεθ᾽, ἡνίκ᾽ ᾿Αριστογείτων Ἵππαρχον κτεῖνε καὶ ᾿Αρμόδιος. The second line, of which ...pa/trida gen etheten is extant, has not been so lucky.

Expecting a political statement in this line, scholars have mainly proposed two supplements:

(a) isonomon (proposed by Peek in analogy to the “Harmodios

Song”: “they made their fatherland isonomous”);” (Ὁ) en eleutheriai (Friedlander, on the basis of similar formulations in Pindar and other poems: “they set their fatherland in freedom”).** Comparing the letter forms with those of other inscriptions of the time, Meritt dates this statue base to after Marathon. Hence,

if it was,

as most

scholars

assume,

the

base

of the

Tyrannicide

monument on the Agora, it must belong to the second monument, by Kritios

and Nesiotes and dated to 477. Some scholars think the epigram was simply copied

from

the

earlier

monument;

others

doubt

this,

and

Joseph

considers it entirely unsuitable for such a monument at that early time.™

Day

262

KURT A. RAAFLAUB

The second document is an epigram found on the island of Chios, engraved around the turn from the third to the second century in a wall of a gymnasion

and forming part of a collection of seven two- and four line poems (henceforth the “Chios

inscription”). The

first publisher,

C.A.

Trypanis,

explains this

collection as a textbook in an expensive private school.” Be that as it may, what is preserved in this case are the first halves of four lines. Στῆσαι τοῦτο ἐδόκησεν ᾿Αθηναίοισιν (2) ᾿Αριστογείτονος αἰχμητίοῦ σῆμα (vel μνῆμα) καὶ ᾿Αρμοδίου,

οἵ κτάνον ἀνὄρα TÜpalvvov ψυχὰς παρθέμενοίι 1-2 suppl. Lloyd-Jones

The

opening line, “The

Athenians

(?) decided to set this up...,” raises the

intriguing possibility that it is (or purports to be) decree. The second line, “(as

a memorial

a monument raised by public

[?]) of Aristo]geiton the spearman

(and of Harmodios [?]),” and the third, “who killed the tyrant,” clearly identify this as a poem designed for a monument honoring the Tyrannicides. Line 4 (“offering their souls ... ”) seems to refer to their sacrifice for the common good. The main questions concern the poem’s purpose and origin, and the words missing especially in lines 3 and 4. Trypanis considered the epigram just “one more anonymous Hellenistic fictitious epigram for the tomb of Harmo-

dios and Aristogeiton, in no way connected with the monuments the Athenians set up in the agora in their honour.” Others, including Day, think it more likely that it is indeed

a copy

or imitation

of an Athenian

epigram

“that

stood

originally on either the Antenor base only, the Kritios base only, both bases, the tomb in the demosion sema, or some otherwise unknown monument.” Day himself argues for the possibility that this poem, or its model, was originally

composed for one of the Agora monuments, perhaps even in combination with the Agora inscription, while others take it to be a copy of the official epitaph on the Tyrannicides’ public tomb

in the Kerameikos, which might date the

original to the late sixth century.” As for the rest of line 3, Maas proposed eleutherian te..., while Raubitschek suggested eleutheron eunomon ede; both agree upon patrida gen etheten or ethesan for the rest of line 4. All these proposals have

their problems, as Day points out, and entirely different restorations are, of course, conceivable.°? Before we discuss this further, we need to look at the third document. It is an inscribed epigram found in Olbia on the Black Sea and first published in 1981

by J.G.

Vinogradov,

who

dated

it to the

early fourth

century

and

connected it with the fall of an Olbian tyrant at that time (henceforth the “Olbia inscription”). More recently, based on photographs, Andrei Lebedev reexamined the inscnption and made crucial corrections which eliminate the

ZEUS ELEUTHERIOS,

DIONYSOS THE LIBERATOR

263

context suggested by Vinogradov. I reproduce the text here with his suggested restorations and his translation: [POio}er ὁ μυριετὴς χίρόνος e.g. οὐρανὸν ἠδὲ καὶ αἴην (?).] [πρὶν λήθηι θεῖναι τῶνδ᾽ ἀρετῆς τὸ κλέος.)

[of κτάνο[ν] ἄνδρα τύραϊννον ἐλευθερίην τ᾽ ἐσάωσαν) πατρίδι καὶ λαοὺς ἀοτίονόμους ἔθεσαν (vel ἐθέτην)}

“(1) The ten-thousand-years time will sooner destroy (e.g., heaven and earth), than bury into oblivion the glory of the noblesse of these men (i.e., of those buried here), (3) who killed the tyrant, saved freedom for the fatherland, and made the people autonomous.” The second distich (lines 3-4) obviously is important in our present context. The extant beginning of line 3 is identical

with that of the Chios inscription, which prompts Lebedev to suggest that both the Chios and the Olbia inscriptions are slightly divergent versions of the same fifth-century Athenian original (A). This original, according to Lebedev, differed from the Agora inscription and, most likely, was considerably younger, since its language seems to imitate the formula eleutheros kat autonomos which is common in late fifth-century decrees. Since A also has the distinctive features of an epitaph, Lebedev, reconstructing a six-line epigram that combines the essential parts of the Chios and Olbia inscriptions, assigns it to the

funeral monument of the Tyrannicides in the demosion sema.” In sum, then, on the one hand, we have three Tyrannicide monuments that

must have been inscribed with epigrams: the Antenor group in the Agora, possibly dating to the last decade of the sixth century, the Kritios and Nesiotes group in the Agora, firmly dated to 477, and

a monument or stele decorating

the tomb in the Kerameikos. All that is actually preserved of these monuments is a small part of the inscribed base of one of them (the Agora inscription):

most likely it belongs to the later statue group in the Agora; its inscription may or may not have been copied from the base of the earlier group. On the other hand, we have three inscribed epigrams of which only one (again, the Agora inscription) is certainly Athenian. Of the other two, the Chios inscription has been

attributed

to

all three

monuments,

while

the

Olbia

inscription,

in

combination with the Chios inscription, has been “identified” as a copy of a more elaborate Athenian original that was inscribed on the tomb monument in the demosion sema. Little seems certain here. Moreover, with the exception

of αοτ in line 4 of the Olbia inscription which poses its own problems (below), none of the political terms appears in the preserved portions of the various epigrams; they are all “restored” by scholars eager to “reconstruct” the political meaning they expect in poems praising the Tyrannicides’ deed.

Assuming for the sake of discussion that all three epigrams indeed originated in the context of Athenian Tyrannicide monuments, what is the likelihood that

264

KURT A. RAAFLAUB

these political terms really appeared in the gaps of the preserved inscriptions? Since isonomia probably is a sixth-century term,°' Peek’s isonomon in the Agora inscription would be unobjectionable even if this epigram was carved originally on the base of the Antenor group. Friedländer’s en eleuthera:, which seems more awkward than the “parallels” adduced, is, on current evidence, unlikely

to have been in the Antenor epigram but poses no problem on the later statue base:

by 477

the noun

eleuthena had been

created, and

“liberty” was well

established as a political value concept. Moreover, on the earlier base the light metaphor in line 1 (quoted above at n. 51) would convey the idea not of “liberty” but “deliverance,” as it does already in the [ad, while by the time of

the later base it might well refer to the liberation of the polis from tyranny, as

it does in Aischylos’ Libanon Bearers of 458." As far as the Chios inscription is concerned,

Raubitschek’s suggestion of

eleutheron or Maas’ and Lebedev’s of eleutherian in line 3 is again improbable if one considers this epigram a copy of that on the Antenor base or on the funeral monument and dates the latter to the late sixth century. As part of an

epigram considerably postdating the Kritios and Nesiotes group, as Lebedev proposes, it would be unproblematic, but Lebedev does not address the question of why the funeral epitaph for the Tyrannicides would have been composed

(as he thinks, by an important poet such as Sophokles or Ion of

Chios) and inscribed only in the late fifth century.™ In line 3 of the Olbia inscription, Lebedev’s insertion of eleuthene again is perfectly fine at the late date he suggests.* The big problem is posed here by

the use of autonomos Lebedev.

This

in the text reconstructed

reading

requires

the

Athenians

by both in

the

Vinogradov late

fifth

and

century

(Lebedev) or the Olbians in the fourth (Vinogradov) to have written that by killing the tyrant the Tyrannicide(s) made the men or citizens (laoı) autonomous. I do not know about fourth-century Olbia but I am certain that fifthcentury Athenians would not have written this. At least in the fifth century, the concept of autonomia refers collectively to the community and to a form of self-

determination and independence that is opposed to outside interference; it is used in opposition to the metaphorical tyranny of Athens

(the polis tyrannos

against which the Spartans waged war) but never to the domestic oppression of the citizens by a tyrant; the latter contrast is always

heros/eleutheria.

The

one

Sophokles’ play named

exception

I am

aware

expressed

of concerns

by eleut-

Äntigone

after her. In fierce and stubborn independence

in and

self-determination, literally following her own law, she chooses voluntary death rather than submitting to the law of the city’s ruler; the application of the term to an individual here clearly is secondary and metaphorical, presupposing its

political and collective use. Moreover, the phrase combining eleutheros kat

ZEUS ELEUTHERIOS,

DIONYSOS THE LIBERATOR

265

autonomos is never used in opposition to tyranny.” Hence, in all probability either what followed aoz{... in the Olbia inscription cannot have corresponded to Lebedev’s

reconstruction

or, if it did, it is not based on a fifth-century

Athenian text.

VI. Conclusion

In conclusion, what do we learn from all this? Simply, I suggest, that in reconstructing such fragmentary texts caution and restraint are advisable. After all, the “Harmodios Song,” whether or not it originated soon after the events and in its extant version preserves the original wording, mentions in sixteen lines only one political concept (the Tyrannicides made Athens isonomous).” Although we know next to nothing about the shape of the earlier Tyrannicide group, there are good reasons to think that the two men had become important political and civic symbols by the time of the Persian Wars, at the latest - why else would Xerxes

have chosen to deport them to his capital and why else

would the Athenians have replaced them immediately with a new statue group? The rich and multiple meanings of this later monument, however, with which Athenians of all classes and backgrounds could identify, and its full ideologization with which we are familiar from a slightly later period“ - all this probably was the result of a long development and crucially influenced by the fears and bonding

experiences

prompted

by the Persian Wars

themselves.

From that time, liberty and equality (eleurheria and isonomia as well as related terms) were perceived as the hallmarks of the Greek polis, opposed starkly to the servitude suffered by the subjects of tyrants and the Persian King, and

carried to a highpoint in the self-perception and -presentation of democratic Athens. Although equality probably figured earlier in the political repertory of elites and poleis that were fighting against tyranny, liberty most likely did not. Hence we should avoid importing anachronistic concepts into early documents.

Similarly,

in the last decades

of the fifth century,

when

Herodotus

and

Thucydides collected the material for their historical works, wrote them and

revised them for publication, political concepts such as autonomia and eleutheria had become standard fare, used emphatically and abused frequently. These

concepts emerged in specific political constellations and under conditions which we can identify with some probability. Earlier periods, described by Herodotus and mentioned occasionally by Thucydides, lacked such concepts. We

now

know

awareness.”

this but

they

did

not.

It is up

to us to maintain

critical

266

KURT A. RAAFLAUB

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Pohlenz, M. 1955. Griechische Fretheit: Wesen und Werden eines Lebensideals (Heidelberg). Pohlenz, M. 1966. Freedom in Greek Life and Thought: The History of an Ideal. Transl. by C. Lofmark (Dordrecht). Pokomy, J. 1959. Indogermanisches etymologisches Worterbuch, vol. 1 (Bern and Munich). Puhvel, J. 1964. “Eleuthér and Oinätis: Dionysiac Data from Mycenaean Greece,” in E.L. Bennett, Jr. (ed.}, Mycenaean Studies: Proceedings of the Third Intenanonal Colloquium on

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Raaflaub, K. 1987. “Herodotus, Political Thought, and the Meaning of History,” in D. Boedeker & J. Peradotto (eds.), Herodotus and the Invention of History, Arethusa 20: 221248. Raaflaub, K. 1988. “Athenische Geschichte und mündliche Überlieferung,” in Jürgen von Ungern-Sternberg and Hansjörg Reinau (eds.), Vergangenheit in mündlicher Überlieferung. Coll. Rauricum 1 (Srurtgart) 197-225. Raaflaub, K. 1993. “Politics and Society in Fifth-Century Rome,” in Bilancio criticosu Roma arcaica fra monarchia e repubblica. Atti dei Convegni Lincei 100 (Rome) 129-157. Raaflaub, K. 1995. “Einleitung und Bilanz: Kleisthenes, Ephialtes und die Begründung der Demokratie,” in K.H. Kinzi (ed.), Demokraria: Der Weg zur Demokratie bei den Griechen, Wege der Forschung 657 (Darmstadt) 1-54, 451-452. Raaflaub, K. 1996. “Equalities and Inequalities in Athenian Democracy,” in J. Ober & C. Hedrick (eds.), Demokratia: A Conversanon on Democracies, Ancient and Modern (Princeton) 139-174. Raaflaub, K. 1998. “The Transformation of Athens in the Fifth Century,” in Boedeker & Raaflaub (1998) 15-41. Raaflaub, K. Forthcoming. “Stick and Glue: The Function of Tyranny in Fifth-Century Athenian Democracy,” in K. Morgan (ed.), Popular Tyranny. Radke, G. 1965. Die Götter Alntaliens (Münster). Rhodes, P.J. 1988. Thucydides, History II, edited with Translation and Commentary (Warminster, England). Robertson, N. 1976. “False Documents at Athens: Fifth-Century History and FourthCentury Publicists,” Historical Reflections 3: 3-24. Roisman, J. 1985. “Maiandrios of Samos,” Historia 34: 257-277. Romilly, J. de. 1983. “Le théme de la liberté et l’evolution de la tragédie grecque,” in Théâtre et spectacles dans Pantiguite: Actes du Colloque de Strasbourg ... 1981 (Leiden) 215226. Roscher, W.H. (ed.). 1884. Ausführliches Lexikon der griechischen und römischen Mythologie, vol. 1 (Leipzig). Rosivach, V. 1987, “The Cult of Zeus Eleutherios at Athens,” PP 235: 262-285. Rosivach, V. 1988. “The Tyrant in Athenian Democracy,” Quadernt Urbinan di cultura classica n.s. 30: 43-57. Rusten, J.S. (ed.). 1989. Thucydides, The Peloponnesian War: Book I! (Cambridge). Said, S. 1998. “Tragedy and Poliucs,” in Boedeker & Raaflaub (1998) 275-295. Seaford, R. 1993. “Dionysos as Destroyer of the Household: Homer, Tragedy, and the Polis,” in T.H. Carpenter & C.A. Faraone (eds.), Masks of Dionysus (Ithaca NY)

Segal, C.P. 1997. Dionysiac Poetics and Euripides’ Bacchae. Exp. edn. (Princeton). Schachter, A. 1981. Cudes of Boeona I. Bulletin Suppl. 38.1 (London). Shapiro, H.A. 1989. Art and Cult under the Tyrants in Athens (Mainz am Rhein). Shapiro, H.A. 1995. Supplement (ibid.).

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1987.

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Presented to David Lewis (Oxford) 269-290. Stahl, M. 1987. Aristokraten und Tyrannen im archaischen Athen (Stuttgart). Taylor, M.W. 1991. The Tyrant Slayers: The Heroic Image in Fifth Century B.C. Athenian Art and Polincs (2nd edn. Salem NH). Thomas, R. 1989. Oral Tradition and Written Record in Classical Athens (Cambridge). Thomas, R. 1992. Literacy and Orality in Ancient Greece (Cambridge). Thompson, H.A. 1937. “Buildings on the West Side of the Agora,” Hesperta 6: 1-226. Thompson, H.A. & Wycherley, R.E.. 1972. The Agora of Athens. The Athenian Agora, vol. 14 (Princeton). Thomson, G. 1968. Aeschylus and Athens: A Study in the Social Ongins of Drama (3rd edn. New York). Tölle-Kastenbein, R. 1976. Herodot und Samos (Bochum).

Travlos, J. 1971. Pictorial Dictionary of Ancient Athens (New York). Trypanis, C.A. 1960. “A New Collection of Epigrams from Chios,” Hermes 88: 69-74. Vansina, J. 1985. Oral Tradition as History (Madison WT). Versnel, H.S.

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Isis, Dionysos,

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Waters, K.H. 1985. Herodotos the Historian: His Problems, Methods and Originality (Norman OK). West, M.L. 1989. “The Early Chronology of Attic Tragedy,” CQ n.s. 39: 251-254. Woodman, A.J. 1988. Rhetoric in Classical Histonography: Four Studies (London). Wycherley, RE. 1957. Literary and Epigraphical Testimonia. The Athenian Agora, vol. 3 (Princeton). Zen,

F.

1987.

“I santuari di Roma

Etruria e Lazio arcaico (Rome)

agli inizi della repubblica,”

121-132.

in M.

Cristofani

(ed.),

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DIONYSOS THE LIBERATOR

271

NOTES See, for example, Hansen (1989), (1995), (1991/1999) 74-78, 81-85, with (1099) 325-327. See the editio princeps (Jameson [1960]: late fourth cent.) and Meiggs-Lewis, GH/ no. 23 (third cent.).

m,

mm

Jameson (1960) 206, 222-223; Habicht (1961) 2-11, at 3. Intermediate positions: e.g., Burn (1963) 364-377 (negative) vs. Meritt (1967) 119-132. For an early summary of the arguments, see Chambers (1967). Meritt (1967) 121-122. See recently, e.g., Woodman (1988) 11-15; Rusten (1989) 7-17. Raaflaub (1985) 191-192. E.g., Ostwald (1982) 18-21. Ostwald (1982) 40; Raaflaub (1985) 203-205; recent bibliography is cited in Hansen (1995) esp. 24 n. 9, 25 ἢ. 17 and, on this particular issue, 38 n. 71.

So too Ostwald (1982) 21-22. Others prefer to emphasize the lack of certainty: Badian (1993) 115 n. 16 (on p. 218); Hansen (1995) 27 n. 31, 38. The discovery of new evidence might change

this any time, of course. In his report on the events of 479, Herodotus (9.81-86.1) does not mention the autonomy issue; see Raaflaub (1985) 126. This is one of very few items pertaining to the period before and during the Persian Wars that is mentioned for the first time in a Thucydidean speech: Hornblower (1996) 132. 10.

11.

12.

Hdt.

1.96.1, on the autonomia of the Asian peoples before they were subjected by the Medes, is

an even more obvious case. See also below at n. 44. It is yet another question why the Plataians needed such a guarantee and against whom it was directed; see recently Badian (1993) chap. 3. I presented this case first in Raaflaub (1985) 139-140. Reviewers expressed reservations, based not on evidence but on principle: Martin Ostwald in CR 39 (1988) 85; Raphael Sealey in Gnomon 60 (1988) 164-165; Walter Donlan in CP 85 (1990) 58; Elke Stein-Hölkeskamp in Gymnasium 98 (1991) 93. I have rethought the entire issue and, I hope, strengthened my case. I submit it here to critical discussion in anticipation of the revised 2nd edn. (in English) of the 1985 book (in preparation). Acceptance: e.g., Berve (1967) 1.114; von Fritz (1967) 1.325-326; Osrwald (1969) 107-109, 165-166; Pleket (1972) 65; Roisman (1985) esp. 257, 263-267; Shipley (1987) 103-105; Rosivach (1987) 264 n. 5; Murray (1988) 475 (despite doubts about Herodotus’ sources [470]}; Garland (1992) 7. Doubts in Pohlenz (1955) 189-190 = (1966) 182 n. 8; Bömer (1957-63) 1.484. Scepticism: Jacoby (1913) 221-222, 446-447; Barron (1964); How & Wells (1928) 1.298 (concerning 3.142); Immerwahr (1956-57) esp. 319-322 (concerning 3.139-149); Asheri (1990) 348: “Around the historical core, whose authenticity there is no reason to doubt, Herodotus has

created an essentially anecdotal account, with unexpected changes of scene, dialogues, political discourses and a series of ironically paradoxical plots” (my transl.). See also the detailed discussions by La Bua (1975), (1978), and note 14 below.

13.

See esp. Mitchell (1975) 80, 86.

14.

Esp. 3.80.2, 6 (Immerwahr [1956-57} 319); cf. Asheri (1990) 350. On Herodotus’ personal sentiments, sce Tölle-Kastenbein (1976) 21. On his speeches, Solmsen (1944); Waters (1966), (1985) 9-10, 64-69; Lateiner (1989) 17-26. Of course, some elements of this speech could have been expressed at the time (esp. the characterization of tyranny as power usurped by an individual at the expense of his peers, the pointed contrast between tyranny and tsonomia, and the concept of “putting power in the middle” (see Detienne (1965)]}, but such correspondences between historical event and historical narrative, separated by almost a century, would be accidental, that is, based not on precise information but on continuing patterns of thought and expression: all that we know about oral tradition in early societies indicates that it normally does not preserve such details (Vansina [1985]; Stahl [1987] pt. 1; Raaflaub [1988]; Thomas [1989], [1992]). See also Murray (1988) 470. Athenian experiences: Ostwald (1969) 166; Raaflaub (1987) 225-226.

15.

See recently Raaflaub (1995) 49-51; (1996) 143-145,

272

KURT A. RAAFLAUB

16.

For details, see Raaflaub (1985) 65-70, 108-125.

17.

For all this, with full documentation, see again Raaflaub (1985) esp. chap. 3.

18.

Shipley (1987) 103.

19.

Herodotus’ purpose, of course, is not that of a modern historian; it is interpretative and didactic, not positivistic; it is directed toward the present, not interested in the past per se: see, ¢.g., Fornara (1971); Nicolai (1986); Raaflaub (1987); Gould (1989); Lateiner (1989). For this specific case: above n. 14.

20.

Hat. 9.90-92, 106. Herodotus’ knowledge: Jacoby (1913) 220-224, 428ff., esp. 430; but see Murray (1988) 470-471. Reliability of archaeologically verifiable information: Tölle-Kastenbein (1976)

108. Priests: e.g., Jacoby (1913) 223; La Bua

(1978) 31ff.; see also Mitchell (1975) 96;

Shipley (1987) 104-105. Athenaios (13.561F; FGrHist 449, fr. 1) cites Kolophomaka of Erxias (date unknown) with a reference to Eleusheria held on Samos in honor of Eros. Nothing else is

known about this. 21.

Testimonia in Wycherley (1957) 25-30; sources and bibliography in Raaflaub

(1985)

132-133

with nn. 284-287. On the Stoa, see Thompson (1937) 5-55; Travios (1971) 527-533; Thompson & Wycherley (1972) 96-103; Camp (1986) 105-107; on its political and ideological significance, Raaflaub, 233-248, esp. 245-246.

22.

So too Rosivach (1987) 264-267; ıbıd. 279-285 on cult practices. Robertson (1976)

17 suggests

that the epithet Eleutherios was not introduced in Athens before the 370s, in connection with the promotion of the Second Athenian League (in whose “charter” the epithet first appears

unambiguously: JG II’ 43 = Tod, GHI no. 123, lines 65-66). If not the boundary stone (1G P 1056; Wycherley [1957] no. 39; cf. Meritt [1952] 374 no. 25), at least the historical-ideological context of the construction of the Stoa of Zeus (previous note) strongly support a much earlier date. 23.

Ant-tyranny ideology in democracy: Berve (1967) 1.190-206; Rosivach (1988); McGlew (1993) chap. 6; Raaflaub (forthcoming). Tyrannicides: Taylor (1991) with earlier bibliography. Merits: Hdr. 5.62-63, 6.123; Thuc. 6.53.3-60. Rivalries: Thomas (1989).

24.

Against the implausible view of Boersma (1970) 31-32, 88-89, that a shrine of Zeus Eleutherios

25.

26.

existed at the Agora as carly as the time of Kleisthenes, see Raaflaub (1985) 134 n, 292. Connor (1989), cit. 8; cf. 23: “Although its origin is complex and its functions multiple, the City Dionysia reflects the tensions and civic realities of early classical Athens -- it is an urban festival with rural elements and roots, a time of relaxation and release combined with a representation of civic order, and of the strength, success and prosperity, that the Athenians associated with freedom and democratic institutions.” Sanctuary of Dionysos Eleuthereus: Travlos (197 1} 537552. Moving of performances: Sourvinou-Inwood (1994) 277ff. For the question of whether or not the Kleisthenic system should already be considered a democracy, see the discussion between Raaflaub and J. Ober in Morris & Raaflaub (1997) chaps. 3-5. West

(1989);

Cartledge

Sourvinou-Inwood

(1994)

(1997) 275:

23-24; “It

is

see

also

conceivable

Shapiro that

(1995) the

19

similarity

(“very

convincing”);

between

the

name

‘Eleutherai’ and the notion of ‘liberation’ brought about by Dionysos in a variety of ways, a notion which is also expressed in Dionysos’ tide Lysios, may have created a perceived special connection between the god and Eleutherai.” 27.

Connor (1989) 8-16; Osborne (1993); Sourvinou-Inwoed (1994); Kolb (1999) 204-209; Parker (1996) 92-95 (cit. 95); see also (concerning the date and significance of the incorporation of Eleutherai in this context) Frost (1985) 69-70; Ehrhardt (1990), and generally Kolb (1977) 115-

133; Shapiro (1989) chap. 5, and (1995) 19. 28.

Eleutherai: Connor (1989) 11 with n. 14 (seconded by Cartledge [1997] 23). Liber: sid. 12 n.

29.

On this there is not complete but sufficient agreement among the experts. On eleutheros: Frisk (1973) 491; Boisacg (1938) 241-242; Chantraine (1970) 336-337. On Aber. Walde & Hofmann

17.

(1938) 7914f.; Ernout & Meiller (1959) 355; Bruhl (1953) 22. See generally Pokorny (1959) 684-

685; Benveniste (1936); (1961) 321ff. 30.

Bruhl (1953) esp. chap. 1. It seems important chat this god had no political function whatsoever. The idea, brought up already in antiquity and developed further by Altheim (1931) 15ff., that

ZEUS ELEUTHERIOS, DIONYSOS THE LIBERATOR

Liber is a translation of Eleutheros

31.

32. 33. 34.

35.

or Eleuthereus

and the god was modeled

273

after Dionysos

Eleuthereus, is rightly refuted by Bruhl (1953) 23-29. Le Bonniec (1958); Combet-Farnoux (1980); Zevi (1987); Drummond (1989) esp. 127, 136. Famine and grain import: Raaflaub (1993) 137-138 with bibliography in n. 35; Comell (1995) 265-268. Fall of monarchy: Heurgon (1973) 156-161; Comell (1995) chap. 9. Plebeians: Raaflaub (1986) chap. 7; Cornell (1995) chap. 10. Bruhl (1953) 20-21; Bömer (1957-63) 1.120-121; Radke (1965) 177-178, all with references. Connor (1989) 17 n. 34 relies on Hdı. 3.142 (on Zeus Eleutherios on Samos: above atn. 11) and

on the doubts Ostwald expresses (above n. 11) about my rejection of this testimony (see previous section). The phrase which Connor cites for additional support, Zant r’eleuthenoi, quoted by Herodianus, Περὶ κλίσεως ὀνομάτων (978c in Page [1962] and Campbell [1993]), if emended correctly, is useless because we lack author and date. Mycenaean texts: Puhvel (1964). Myth: Suda s.v. Melanægis. Women: Thomson (1968) 161, accepted by Seaford (1993) 140 n. 113, cf. 146 n. 132, who compares the place name with similar ones like Aphetai or Klazomenai.

36.

Paus. 2.6, 2.7.6, 9.16.6; Ath. 363b; Plut. Mor. 613c; cf. Versnel (1990) 139, 166, 193; Leinieks (1996) 308-309, who lists sources as well for a sanctuary of Dionysos Lyaios on Mt. Tmolos in

Asia Minor, supposedly also connected with Thebes. Kern (1905) 1033 mentions /yatos among poetic epithets. The cults in Korinth and Sikyon, which both featured statues of Dionysos Bakcheios and Dionysos Lysios, seem related; their date is uncertain. The etiological stories in Pausanias are clearly influenced by Euripides’ play and hence relatively late (Leinieks, sdd.). Generally on ritual licence in the cult of Dionysos:

Hoffman

(1989).

37.

Bacchae 445, 447, 498, 649, 697 (hein); 253, 613 (eleutkeroun). See, on binding vs. unbinding, Segal (1997) 21-22, 91-100, with bibliography in 91 n. 15; Leinieks (1996) 311-325, who, however, uses the concept of “liberation” extremely vaguely. He points out (135-137, 306-307) that Euripides, like Pindar in his dithyramb for the Thebans (70b Snell), seems to have modeled his description of the Dionysiac rites directly on practices of the Theban cult of Dionysos Lysios; this description differs markedly from that in Pindar’s dithyramb for Athens (75 Snell).

38.

See the list in Kern (1905) 1026-1034; cf. Roscher (1884) 1029-1154 on Dionysos. Hesychios, s.v. eleutheros, mentions Eleutheros as variant to Eleuthereus; if correct (which may not be the case), the latter was his Athenian name, the former presumably his name in Eleutherai but equally

derived from Eleuther (Puhvel [1964] connection with Eleuther and claims that Boiotian equivalent of eleutherios”, so that Eleutherios” — which in turn is “simply

164): Schachter (1981) 175. Leinieks ignores the “Attic eleurhereus is a thinly disguised rendering of the “Dionysos Eleuthereus is actually a Boiotian Dionysos another name for Dionysos Lysios.” “Subsequently

Eleuthereus was mistakenly taken to refer to Eleutherai, the town...

through which

Dionysos

Eleuthereus passed on his way to Athens” ({1996] 308-310). If it were that easy! Based on the same assumption, Leinicks sees the reason for the “syncretism” that emerged in the fifth century berween the cults of Cretan Zeus, Phrygian Sabazios, and Boiotian Dionysos in the nature of these “three son divinities,” who all are “gods of liberation ... The syncretism of the three gods amounts to the claim that they are variants of a single god, a god of liberation.” Such generalizations obviously are dangerous and, in fact, wrong. For example, as discussed above (at n. 17), Zeus was not generally worshipped as Eleutherios; he asswmed this function only at a few locations, at a specific time, and because of specific circumstances. Hence it comes as no surprise that in his discussion Leinieks ignores not only Connor (1989) but the entire bibliography on Zeus Eleutherios.

40.

Lysios: Suda s.v. Lysioi teletai, attributing the story to Herakleides Ponukos; Paus. 9.16.6. Both versions use bern. Diod. 4.2.6 cites a much further developed tradition: Dionysos “led about an army not only of men but also of women and chastised the unrighteous and disrespectful. Repaying the favor to his native land he liberated (eleucherosas) all the cities throughout Boiotia and founded a city named for autonémia, which he called Eleutherai.” Aeschin. 3.41. Satyr plays: Leinieks (1996) 360-361. Zeus Eleutherios: above at n. 21. Connor (1989) 18-19 with references. See generally Habicht (1956) esp. pt. 2.

41.

Connor (1989) 19-22 with references. On “freedom festivals” td. (1985) 97.

39.

274 42. 43, 44.

KURT A. RAAFLAUB

See generally Mullen (1982) and, specifically for Dionysiac festivals, Hoffman 1989. Connor (1989) 23 with reference to de Romilly (1983). Connor (1989) 17 n. 34 mentions the “oracle” in Aristotle, Ath. Pol. 19.4 which, if authentic, “associates eleushena with freedom from the tyrants.” The passage in question does not cite an oracle; just like Herodotus (5.63.1), Aristotle simply tells the story of how the Alkmeonids bribed

45.

the Pythia into advising the Spartans, whenever they came to Delphi, to “free Athens.” As things stand, we cannot know whether the Pythia used these very words nor, for that matter, whether this “advice” was conveyed in form of an oracle. Ar. Av. 1074-1075; cf. Dunbar (1995) ad loc.; Sommerstein (1987) 272.

46.

Goldhill (1990); Smarczyk (1990) 155-167; Sourvinou-Inwood (1994). See also, e.g., Giovannini (1991); Connor (1987), (1996). On the date of support for war orphans: Raaflaub (1998) 30-31.

47.

As emphasized by de Romilly (1983). On the political function of tragedy, see recently Meier (1993); Cartiedge (1997); Pelling (1997); Said (1998) with rich bibliography.

48.

Sources in Wycherley (1957) 93-98; for recent discussion, see Taylor (1991) chap. 2 and passim;

49,

Paus. 1.29.5. For the location, see Clairmont (1983) 1.34, 2.417 (Fig. 1). For the date, Jacoby

Casmota (1997); Anderson (forthcoming). (1944) 50 π. 64; see further Anderson (forthcoming).

50.

Meritt (1936) 355-358; SEG 10 320; 16 I’ 502 with bibliography; Page (1981) 186-189; CEG no. 430 with comments and bibliography.

51. 52.

Heph. Encheindion 4.6 (cf. Eust. II. 984.8); modified transl. Wycherley (1957) no. 280. Cannina convivalia 893, 896 in Page (1962); scolia 893, 896 (with transl.) in Campbell (1993); transl. in Fornara (1983) no. 29: “I shall bear my sword in a branch of myrtle / like Harmodios and Aristogeiton / when they killed the tyrant / and made Athens a place of isonomia (893: tsonomous

t'Athenas epotesaten);

“Your

fame

shall be throughout

the world

forever,

/ dearest

Harmodios and Aristogeiton, / because you killed the tyrant / and made Athens a place of isonomia” (896: same). 53.

See references in P.A. Hansen (1983) 238. For discussion, see, ¢.g., Friedlander (1938) 89-93, abbreviated in Friedländer & Hoffleit (1948) no. 150, pp. 141-142; Taylor (1991) 32-33; Anderson (forthcoming). Day (1985) 31-34.

Trypanis (1960); cf. SEG 16 497.11-14; SEG 17 392 (with supplements suggested by H. LloydJones, P. Maas, E. Barber). Trypanis (1960) 71-72 (cit.); Day (1985) 34-44 (cit. 37); see also Podlecki (1973) 32-34. Epitaph: see recently Taylor (1991) 11 n. 20; Anderson (forthcoming). Date: n. 49 above. As exemplified by Day (1985) 42.

SEG 31 702; CEG 2 884. For details about the first publication and the re-publication in 1989 (of the original and a joined fragment) see Lebedev (1996) 263. Lebedev (1996) 264 (modified). Lebedev (1996) 265-268. Above αἵ ἡ. 15.

Above aın. 17. Hom. 11. 6.6, 8.282, 11.796, 15.741, 16.39; cf. Taylor (1991) 33. Aesch. Cho. 809-810, 863, cf. 1046.

Lebedev (1996) 267. Inn. 27, Lebedev announces a publication on “The Chian collection of epigrams and Ion of Chios,” which I have not seen. 65.

Earlier proposals, such as eleurherien d’apedoke or pali doke (Burkert,

Hermann,

and Peek; see

Lebedev [1996] 263: omnes privatim), have been superseded by Lebedev's improved reading of the text (ibid.). 66.

Soph. Anz. 821-822; cf. 875 (autognotos orga); for bibliographical references, see Raaflaub (1985)

67.

Above n. 52. For opposing views on the issues mentioned, see Ostwald (1969) 121-136; Fornara & Samons (1991) 42-50.

201 n. 228. On the combined phrase: rid. 206-207.

ZEUS ELEUTHERIOS, DIONYSOS THE LIBERATOR

68.

See Fehr (1984); Monoson

69.

I thank Karen Bassi, Deborah comments

(forthcoming) chap.

Boedeker,

275

1; Raaflaub (forthcoming).

Greta Ham,

and Suzanne Abrams for valuable assistance.

and an anonymous

reader for useful

Naked Democracy STEPHEN G. MILLER

Were it necessary to identify Mogens Hansen’s distinguished career with a single aspect of ancient history, I believe that Athenian Democracy would spring to mind. I hope, then, that it is justified to pay honor to him by an examination of one part of the ancient Greek cultural environment that was, as I hope to show, indispensible to the invention of democracy both in Athens

and elsewhere in the ancient Greek world.' The

institution of democracy

has always held fascination for citizens of

modem western states even if we are so accustomed to that form of government which we call democracy today that we sometimes forget what a tremendous and startling invention it was.” As a result, our examinations are more frequently directed toward the history of the institution and its workings rather than toward

its origins.’ That tendency was accentuated

during the

recent celebration of the 2,500th anniversary of Kleisthenes’ reforms with the appearance of a series of books and articles that dealt with a wide range of subjects relevant to the history and operation of democracy, but that almost always ignored completely the role of athletics in democracy.’ On those rare occasions

when

athletics were

considered,

they were

dismissed

as an ari-

stocratic monopoly that served to provide ordinary citizens with “the spectacle of elite conflicts” and therefore had no role in the origins of Greek democracy.° I believe the opposite 15 true.

In the following discussion I will not deal with questions such as the precise moment when “real” democracy came into being,’ or when the Athenians (and other less well

describe

documented

their form

poles)

decided

of government.”

And

to use the

I will not

term

demokratia

discuss

to

the various

components of Athenian democracy that have been explored so admirably by

the honoree of this volume. Each of these issues, the ancient historical figures associated with them, and the modern historians who deal with them, are all important to our understanding of the phenomenon.

But none, I think, asks

the more fundamental question of how it came to pass that the Greeks in general and the Athenians in particular were possessed of the common psyche that allowed them to create this new political form in the sixth and early fifth centuries. I speak here not of specific motivations or events, but of a more general

atmosphere,

a gradually

developed

and

commonly

accepted

-- at

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G. MILLER

various levels depending on the individual -- notion of equality. For it is this

appreciation of the fundamental equality of every human being that is a necessary preliminary to what happened in late Archaic Athens and elsewhere at the same time or even earlier. It is this sense of equality that must be understood whether one believes that the paternalistic Kleisthenes distributed votes to the demos like alms to the poor,’ or that the leaderless mass of Athenians rioted in 508/7 because Isagoras and Kleomenes tried to shut down the Boule.'®

This sense of equality lies at the heart of the concept of isonomia -- equality before the law - the political significance of which is that of political equality, a sine qua non of democracy even if isonomia could and did exist in other, non-

demoda ic, political settings.'' It is this element of isonomia that lies embedded in the foundations of democracy and which I suggest developed out of athletics. Two further preliminary points need to be made. First, although modern

scholarship once held that isonomia was an aristocratic concept, such a view has been untenable since the work of Vlastos,'? but the origins of isonomia have not been suggested. Second, the modern

idea that the invention of the phalanx

battle formation had anti-aristocratic (meaning, even if not always expressed, democratic) consequences'’ has been more or less abandoned thanks in the

first place to the work of Snodgrass and, subsequently, to that of Latacz.'* It was, in any event, a bad theory when one considers the conservative tendencies

of the military in general, and the specific need in the phalanx for unquestioned discipline and obedience to a leader. Such is not the bed wherein democracy was likely born. In turning to a suggested role for athletics in propagating the state of mind

that supported the development and especially the practice of isonomia, it is necessary to define carefully the specific type of athletics that I have in mind and — even more carefully - those that I believe did not play such a role, or only a supporting role if any. First of all, I do not refer to what we can call

“civic athletics.”'” By this I mean those competitions that were unique to local games and that were a part of the training that prepared the citizen-to-be for his civic responsibilities. These included at Athens, and elsewhere, events like the lampadedromia, pyrrhiche, euandna, anthippasia, eutaxia, and others wherein

the victor was the tribal entry and not the individual. These competitions were team events with a strong undercurrent of military exercises and they were closely connected to the ephebic training at Athens.'* Like the hoplite phalanx, these competitions were designed to instill discipline and co-ordinated effort, and they lie at the heart of the constant regeneration of the polis regardless of

the nature of its govenment.'’ But, with the exception of the torch-race, the victory in these civic competitions was awarded by a panel of judges based

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upon criteria that were intangible and largely invisible. Hence, the judges — one from each of the ten tribes -- were sworn not to show favoritism in their voting. A distrust in the efficaciousness of the oath is revealed by the fact that only half of the ten votes were chosen by lot to determine the winner, and the instances

of cheating and bribing show that the distrust was justified.'* Again, such is not a context within which the notion of isonomia or of the equality of each man to the other is likely to have originated, especially when we remember that the victor in these competitions was the tribal team and not the individual. The same is also true of the musical competitions where winners were selected by a panel of judges whose decision could be affected by consider-

ations other than the quality of the performance. We hear, not surprisingly, that the competitors who received the most favorable response from the audience frequently received the votes of the judges as well, even if there were serious flaws in their performances.'” Equality of opportunity before a panel of

judges is not the same as tsonomta. That fact may explain the disdain in some

ancient circles for the musical competitions.”” Both “civic athletics” and the moustkos agon stand in marked contrast to that part of the panhellenic athletic program wherein individuals competed in events the winner of which was clearly determined by objective criteria obvious to all ~ athlete, spectator, judge. The runner who crossed the finish line first, the wrestler

who

threw

his

opponent

to the

ground,

the boxer

and

the

pankratiast who beat their opponents into submission, and the pentathlete whose discus and javelin and jump all landed beyond those of his opponents required no vote — no subjective decision by a panel of judges - to gain the victory.”’ This equality before absolute standards of distance and speed and strength — as measured by those of the ‘other competitors present — that are subject to the interpretation of no man is a basic isonomia. Further, it should

be noted

that prizes were

awarded

to the victor alone

only at the four

stephanitic games at Olympia, Delphi, Isthmia, and Nemea. This custom not

only stands in contrast to awards at the chrematitic games” but also emphasizes the impartiality and unambiguity of the award of the victory. Such unambiguity cannot be claimed for second place which frequently is less clear in the foot races than is first place, and second place is especially subject to question in the wrestling and boxing and pankration. In those events pairings took place by sortition — yet another

indication of the attempt

to prevent

human intervention in the ultimate decision.” But if A was paired with B and won, and C with D and won, and A beat C

in the final, A was the clear victor

for he had defeated all his opponents either directly or by surrogate. But who was second best? C? But C had not defeated B either directly or indirectly, and B could legitimately claim that he would have beaten C in a direct match. The

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refusal to award a second place prize at the stephanitic games removed such inequalities and even the appearance of them. These

competitions also stand in direct contrast to the equestrian events

which are the domain of the wealthy and the aristocratic as is not only clear from considerations of the expense involved with owning and training horses, but

is specifically

Alkibiades’

stated

in many

sources,

and

inherent

in others.

son can say of his father in regard to the Olympic

Games

Thus that

“although in no way untalented nor weak of body, he held the gymnic games

in contempt since he knew that some of the athletes were lowborn and from small city-states and poorly educated. Therefore he tried his hand at horse

breeding, work of the uppermost crust and not possible for a poor man.””* This notion that the hippikos agon was perceived as being the domain of the wealthy is also intrinsic to the story of Agesilaos who persuaded his sister Kyniska to enter a four-horse chariot in the Olympic

Games.

His motives,

according to Plutarch, were to disabuse some of his fellow Spartans from illusions of grandeur they were acquiring from the breeding of horses by showing them that even a woman could win since an equestrian “victory was

the result of wealth and expenditure, not in any way the result of arete.”” It follows, obviously, that a victory in the gymnikos agon was not the result of wealth and expenditure. It seems, then, unlikely that coincidence is at work when Sokrates justifies his demand for “punishment” by the award of sitesis in the prytaneton which is, in his opinion, more appropriate for a poor man (ἀνδρὶ πένητι

= blue-collar

worker) than for one who “has won at the Olympic Games in a horse race or

a two-horse chariot or a four-horse chariot.”?* Surely it is significant and deliberate that Sokrates not only contrasts his status with that of those who can win in the Aipptkos agon generally, but also lists specifically and individually the three equestrian events that existed at Olympia at the time of his trial.” At the same time, he is silent not only about specific events in the gymnikos agon, but also about this category of athletics as a whole even though we know that such victors also enjoyed sitesis in the prytaneion and had done so for many years.”

Why would he fail to mantion the gymnikos agon if it, too, were the particular domain of the aristocrat? It seems to me that Sokrates, the poor democrat, is

disassociating himself from the wealthy equestrian compeutors (including Alkibiades who had been a recipient of sıtesis in the prytaneion) and perhaps even identifying himself with the athlete in the gymnikos agon. This is, in other words, a subtle reminder to the Athenian jury of his humble social status, and it is based on the relatively humble

status of the athlete vis-a-vis the horse

owner. I have considered the aristocratic qualities of the equestrian events at some

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length because it is the failure to separate the hippikos agon from the gymnikos

agon that has been responsible, I think, for the frequently repeated assertion

that athletics in the Archaic period were aristocratic.” That assertion is obviously true for the equestrian events, but was it equally true of the gymnikos agon? And whence

comes

such an assertion? Largely, I think, from Pindar,

Simonides, and Bacchylides. Thus we read, for example, that “[Simonides and Pindar earned] their living, as they largely did, by serving the religious and athletic spirit of an aristocratic upper class...” and “{Pindar] lived in the world of the aristocratic polis, for which a victory at the games was an achievement

enhancing the glory of the state.”” The first of these statements is probably largely true although one wonders if only the aristocratic upper class had a religious and athletic spirit, and the second may be partially true although there

were clearly non-aristocratic poleis in existence in Pindar’s day, but neither statement tells the full story. More to the point is that Pindar wrote for those who could afford to pay

him; the muse needed money.*' We should analyse his poetry with that fact in mind if we want to draw social and historical conclusions from it. If we see that 5 of the Olympian odes, for example, are for discrete victories in the Aippikos agon” while another 8 celebrate gymnic

victories, we might be tempted

to

think that there is a real balance between the two types and that aristocratic

competitors dominated in both. But such an analysis falls short of the reality. Pindar’s Olympians probably span a forty year period, according to the traditional dating, from 488 to 448 BC (Οἱ. 14 and Οἱ. 5, respectively). During that period, 44 separate competitions took place in the hippic events of which Pindar celebrated five (11.4%), but 121 separate gymnic competitions took place of which

Pindar celebrated eight (6.6%). To put it another way, had

Pindar celebrated the proportionally appropriate number of gymnic victories, there would have been 14 rather than 8 odes for such competitions. There is

a clear weight on the side of the horses. The weight on the horses is even greater at the Pythian Games. The period

of time covered by Pindar’s Pythian odes stretches from 502 to 450 BC (Pyzh. 10 and Pyth. 8, respectively).”” Of the twelve Pythian odes, two should not be counted as celebrations for discrete victories at Delphi.” Thus, ten discrete Pythian victories are celebrated by Pindar. One of the ten victories was in the musical competitions leaving nine odes to the hippic and the gymnic events. During the total period covered by these odes 28 separate cornpetitions took

place in the hippic events of which Pindar celebrated four (14.3%), and 181 separate

gymnic

competitions

took

place

of which

Pindar

celebrated

five

(6.6%). The proportionally correct number of gymnic odes should have been 26 rather than the actual 5. The equestrian predominance is clear.

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STEPHEN G. MILLER

At the Isthmian and Nemean Games, the situation is much the same. Eight discrete victories are celebrated at each site even though there were twice as

many competitions at those biennial games as there were at either Delphi or Olympia during the same period. Clearly a greater prestige and a higher value was placed on victories at the latter two sites, as Pindar implies when he hopes

that an equestrian victor at Isthmia might yet win at Delphi and Olympia.” Of the eight Isthmian victories, three were in equestrian events. We do not know for certain the events in the program at Isthmia, but :f we assume that they were the same as at Delphi since both included musical competitions, we can

estimate that there must have been about 7 times more gymnic than hippic competitions. By that ratio, a proportionate representation would have seen 3 hippic and 21 (rather than 5) gymnic victories at Isthmia celebrated by Pindar. It is only in the Nemean Odes that the proportion of one hippic and seven gymnic victories reflects something like the actual proportion in the program of the Games even though, once again, we do not know the details of the Nemean program. But the Nemean Odes are peculiar in that six of the seven gymnic victories celebrated are those of Aiginetans. Taken

as a whole, then, it is clear that Pindar is catering to those with

sufficient wealth to pay him, and that his picture of athletics and those who were engaged in athletics does not show the whole story. If it did, then the

ratio of odes celebrating gymnic victories to those celebrating hippic victories ought to have reflected more closely the ratio of the events at the games. Hence, we can suggest that the actual victors in the gymnic events were not, in general, at the same social or economic level as those in the hippic events —

they could not pay Pindar’s price.” But it is also possible to bring positive evidence to bear that shows that some competitors in the gymnikos agon were definitely of humble origins. This has already been done by David Young,

and it is not necessary to rehearse the

evidence here.*” We should, however, note that the ancient sources specifically call Koroibos a cook, and Glaukos a ploughboy, and Polymnestor a goatherd, and Amesinas a cowherd, and one anonymous victor a fishmonger. Although

Young says that such stories of humble origins “smack of myth,”™

and

although these humble victors might have been the exception, they cannot be

simply disregarded.” At the very least, their existence shows that such stories could be believed, and that we cannot restrict participation in the gymnic

competitions to the wealthy or the aristocratic. We must also remember that - with very few exceptions — we have (fragmentary) information only about winners, and mostly only about winners at the Olympic Games. We can fairly state then, with Alkibiades, that some of the athletes in the gymnic events were

lowborn.”

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The real point, however, is that the gymnic events were isonomic and isegoric, and that all classes could and did compete together on an equal footing, and floggings from the judges were based on fouls, not wealth or the lack ofit.*' To

be sure, the wealthy might have some benefits from diet and training,” but natural talent was not restricted to the upper class, and the benefits of hard work to the condition of the body

cannot be forgotten. The

gymnic

com-

petitions can therefore be understood as a leveling agent that could easily have

contributed to the development of democracy.” But we should remember that one other aspect of these gymnic athletics also served the purpose of leveling class distinctions: nudity. Once clothes are stripped off the human figure, it is difficult to distinguish the rich from the poor, the smart from the dumb, the aristocrat from the king or the democrat.“

The aura of superiority that can be attached to the person by dressing well, or of inferiority to the poorly clad, disappears when the person strips. Anyone who

has spent time in a locker room

understands that pride of position is

difficult to sustain when all is bared, and this is so obvious that one wonders

that it has never been mentioned before now.“ Two sudden

related facts have, however, popularity

in Athens

been noted and discussed.

of the ithyphallic

herm

One

is the

— that semi-anthro-

pomorphized figure of Hermes consisting of a square pillar surmounted by a bearded head with vestigal stub shoulders and a phallus on the front. It has been recognized that this phenomenon can be associated with “the consolidation of the democracy at Athens.” The association of the herm with

gymnic games and exercises has not been noted in such discussions, however.“ Such a context is not the only one within which the herm is to be found, but it is one of the most consistent and persistent. Hence, in the Hellenistic period

it is typical to have local games called the Hermaia that are the culmination of a year’s training in the gymnasium, but the practice had begun much earlier.“ Herms were also frequently located in the gymnasium-palaistra and could have the head of Hermes replaced by the portrait of a kosmetes - the annually elected

“superintendent of education”.* Indeed, they were so typical of that setting that Cicero could refer to them as γυμνασιώδη and specifically request them as decoration for that part of his villa he was wont to call his ‘palaestra’ and his ‘gymnasium’. The association of herms and Hermes with gymnic athletics and exercises can be traced back at least to the Classical and late Archaic periods. For example, the tondo of a red-figure kylix of 480-470 BC in Copenhagen shows a youth about to crown a herm while a post in the

background alludes to the running track.”' More explicit is an Attic red-figure Kalyx krater of the mid-fifth century from Agrigento.” An ithyphallic herm faces our right and is approached by a youth with a wreath with which he is

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STEPHEN G. MILLER

about to crown the herm. The youth wears on his arms the fillets that have been

recently

euandria.”

identified

Nike

as the

approaches

iconographic

from

the

markers

left holding

of the victor in the

yet

another

fillet. The

association of nudity, the gymnasium, and the herm is clear. Perhaps the most interesting example of this association is in the tondo of an early red-figure

kylix that portrays Hermes at an altar with a dog disguised as a pig. To the right are portrayed,

as if hanging

on a wall, a sponge,

an aryballos, and

a

stlengis — the characteristic iconographic markings of the palaistra-gymnasium. Even more interesting is that this tondo has a preliminary sketch beneath the

final paint, upside-down, of a naked running youth.™ The second related fact that has been observed is that — with the obvious and explicable exception of the Panathenaic amphora — Attic vase painting abruptly adds nude

athletes to its standard

repertoire of depictions

in the

period between 520 and 510 BC.” The number of representations grows to a peak at about 460, falls back, and peaks again just after 400, falls back again

and peaks once more in the decade of the 340s. It may be the purest of coincidences

that these

high

points

in the

number

of representations

of

“palaistra” or “gymnasium” scenes coincide with periods when the democracy

of Athens was most in evidence (whether in its strength or in a threatened condition),

or perhaps

this is significant

evidence

for a direct

connection

between nudity and democracy in the minds of the Athenians themselves. Is

nudity perhaps the costume of democracy?”® At this point we can also remind ourselves that the three gymnasia of Athens — Akademy, Lykeion, Kynosarges - where nudity was obviously ubiquitous (as the name

of the building

implies),

had

probably

come

into being

in the

Peisistratid period” and seem to have been well established by the time of the Kleisthenic reforms. Our suggested connection between nudity (and the gymnasium) and democracy would give an added significance to the use of Kynosarges by Themistokles to promote isonomia between the notho: and the legitimate youth - it was the practice of nudity, and not just the sharing of the same facilities, in the gymnasium between

high-

and

low-bom.

that immediately blurred the distinctions

And

it should

be

noted

that

the

fact

that

Themistokles persuaded well-born youths to join him suggests that there were also non-well-born but legitimate Athenian youths using the other gymnasia.”” Indeed, the presence of the demos in the gymnasium and the importance of the gymnasium

to the democracy

is explicit in the ranking of choregos, gymna-

starchos, and trierarchos as co-equal liturgies in fifth century Athens.” Another circumstance in the athletic record of Athens should be noted. The Olympic lists record no Athenian victor in the gymntkos agon after Phrynon in

636

BC

until Kallias in 472

BC

but thereafter Athenians

are frequently

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285

victorious.” Moreover, one of the most famous trainers of antiquity, Melesias of Athens (although plying his trade on Aigina), is at his prime in the 470s and 460s.°* Do we see here the effects of a generation of democratic training in the gymnasium? We

can

adduce

more

evidence

-- albeit equally

circumstantial

-- to the

argument for nudity as an indispensible ingredient in the recipe for democracy. Chronological considerations are a part of this evidence. We do not know when the Greeks began to compete in the nude; Pausanias attributed the introduction of the custom to the loss of a loincloth during the race run

successfully at Olympia by Orsippos of Megara in 720 BC.“ Thucydides attributed the invention of athletic nudity to the Lakedaimonians, but said that it “is not many years” since athletes began to remove their diazomata before competitions.°* Whatever Thucydides meant by οὐ πολλὰ ἔτη, archaeological

evidence in the form of vase-painting and sculpture show that the custom was

well established by the sixth century.” Again there is a coincidence in that the four great Panhellenic athletic festivals, with the gymnikos agon as a central element in each, form their cycle in the early years of the sixth century.” The beginning of the Pythian Games in 586, the Isthmian Games

in 580, and the Nemean

Games

in 573 comes

together with the reorganization of the Olympic Games in 580. In other words, nudity in athletics was well known to Athenians and to all Greeks in the generation when course,

the

democracy was making its initial appearance.“ This is, of

time

of Solon,

and

it is worth

remembering

that

Aristotle

considered that it was from the legislation of Solon that ἀρχὴ δημοκρατίας

ἐγένετο. The chronological coincidence is obvious although whether we may draw conclusions from it is not. Finally,

the

case

of Kroton

should

be considered.

In past scholarship,

Kroton has entered the discussion about democracy (specifically the Athenian

type) for two reasons. The first of these is the supposed connection between Kleisthenes and the Pythagoreans at Kroton.”° This idea is based on no ancient document, but only on the fact that Kleisthenes used the numbers 3, 5, and 10

for elements in his constitution.”' Although I believe that there may well have been

a connection

between

Kroton

and

the basis of democracy,

I cannot

accept this as serious evidence on the question. The second reason for Kroton’s presence in the discussion heretofore is that one of the earliest documented uses of the word tsonomia occurs in a fragment

of the physician Alkmaion of Kroton.” As Ostwald has shown, isonomia is used in this fragment as a political concept which helped Alkmaion explain the need for commensurability or equilibrium in health as contrasted to the ill-effects of

the dominance of any one factor - of monarchia.’” But having understood

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STEPHEN G. MILLER

Vlastos’ proof that Alkmaion was not a Pythagorean”* Ostwald went on to claim that it was immaterial to speculate whether Alkmaion’s “experiences in Croton may or may not be reflected in his choice of this contrast” between

isonomia and monarchia.” Such speculation may well be immaterial, or at least irrelevant, with regard to the Pythagoreans, but it is at least interesting with regard

to

another

aspect

of Alkmaion’s

certain

experiences

in Kroton

--

frequent contact with the gymnikos agon. It has long been - at least since the time of Strabo, see below, ἢ. 77 — a source of wonder to those who

study ancient athletics to note the absolute

dominance of Krotoniate athletes in the gymnikos agon in the sixth and early

fifth centuries BC." In the period from 588 to 488 BC there were 26 victors in the stadion race at Olympia. Since these victors were the eponymous winners of the Olympiad, all their names and ethnics are preserved to us. Of the 26, 11 were from Kroton. Only Elis and Kerkyra provided as many as two victors in

the stadion during the same period. It is hardly surprising that the proverb was coined: “he who finishes last of the Krotoniates is first among the rest of the

Greeks.””’ From this same period the names of the victors at Olympia in 71 different events of the gymnikos agon are preserved; 20 of them are Krotoniates.

That a single polis could produce some 28% of the victors is phenomenal,”* and it should be noted

that there are no victors from

Kroton

recorded

in the

hippikos agon, and that no Krotoniate victory was celebrated by an epinician ode. It may also be noted that one of the most famous of Kroton’s athletes — Phayllos who fought against the Persians in 480 BC - never won at Olympia

and hence does not boost the statistics.” Whence this athletic success for Kroton? Strabo attributed it to something in the nature

of the place,

while Young

athletes.°° The more common

believes

that Kroton

was

buying

modern view would insist that these athletes

were aristocratic,®' but there is no evidence that they were, and the circumstances already described suggest the contrary. So, too, does the clear evidence that

Kroton was early among the democracies of the Greek world in the sixth

century BC.” One

final coincidence needs to be mentioned.

career of the physician, Demokedes father around

525

BC,

he went

Herodotos

tells us of the

of Kroton.” After a falling-out with his

to Aigina where,

after a year in which he

demonstrated his abilities, he was hired by the Aiginetans as a public employee at the annual

rate of one

talent. The

next year he was hired away

by the

Athenians at the rate of 100 minas, and the following year by the tyrant of Samos,

Polykrates,

for two

talents.

(This

is not a particularly aristocratic

curriculum vitae, or So it seems to me.) After a series of adventures Demokedes returned home to marry the daughter of the most famous of all ancient athletes

NAKED DEMOCRACY

287

from anywhere -- Milon of Kroton. This story raises a series of questions that cannot be explored here, including that of what appears to be a very early

example of socialized medicine, and of who it was among the Athenians who actually hired Demokedes — were the tyrants interested in public health? The most interesting question for the present discussion, however, is the possibility of a connection between gymnic training and medicine. Such a connection was certainly understood in antiquity™ and we today understand the relationship

between exercise and good health. Hence it is possible that Demokedes was, at least in part, hired as a trainer for the young men of Athens. It does not strain one’s imagination too much to think of him as also having isonomia in his kit, although the fact that democracies were established at Athens and Samos shortly after his sojourns there may be coincidence. Demokedes may have been merely a part of the wave of democratic impulses that was washing over Greece

in the late Archaic period.” But that Demokedes, and Alkmaion, and their compatriots grew up in an atmosphere of competitive athletics cannot be disputed, nor can their nudity.

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116: 119-156.

Bleicken, J. 1994. Die athenische Demokratie? (Paderborn). Boegehold, A.L. 1996. “Group and Single Competitions at the Panathenaia,” in Neils (1996} 95-105. Bonfante, L. 1989. “Nudity as a Costume in Classical Art,” AVA 93: 543-570. Brodersen, K. 1990. “Zur Datierung der ersten Pythien,” ZPE 82: 25-31. Cartiedge, P. 1977. “Hoplites and Heroes: Sparta’s Contribution to the Technique Ancient Warfare,” JHS 97: 11-27. Clinton, K. 1994. “The Eleusinian Mysteries and Panhellenism in Democratic Athens,” Coulson εἰ al. (1994) 161-172. Coulson, W.D.E. & Kyrieleis, H. (eds.). 1992. Proceedings of an International Symposium the Olympic Games (Athens). Coulson, W.D.E. et al. (eds.). 1994. The Archaeology of Athens and Atnca under

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Democracy (Oxford).

Crowther, N.B. 1982. “Athletic Dress and Nudity in Greek Athletics,” Eranos 80: 163-168. Dahl, R. 1989. Democracy and its Critics (New Haven). Dunn, J. (ed.). 1992. Democracy, the Unfinished Journey 508 B.C. - 1993 A.D. (Oxford). Ehrenberg, V. 1950. “Origins of Democracy,” Historia 1: 515-548. Ehrenberg, V. 1973. From Solon to Socrates (London). Farrar, C. 1988. The Origins of Democratic Thinking (Cambridge).

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Finley, M.1., & Pleket, H.W.

1976. The Olympic Games: the First Thousand Years (London).

Forrest, W.G. 1966. The Emergence of Greek Democracy (New York). Fox, R.L. 1995. “Cleisthenes and His Reforms,” in Koumoulides (1995) 71-94. Goldhill, 5. 1990. “The Great Dionysia and Civic Ideology,” in Winkler & Zeitlin (1990) 97-129. Halperin, D. 1990. One Hundred Years of Homosexualiry (New York). Hansen, M.H. 1986. “The Origin of the Term Demokrana,” LCM 11: 35-36. Hansen, M.H. 1991. The Athenian Democracy in the Age of Demosthenes (Oxford). Hollein, H.-G. 1988. Bürgerbild und Budwelt der atnschen Demokratie auf den rotfigurern Vasen des 6.-4. Jahrhunders v. Chr. (Frankfurt). Hornblower, 5. 1992. “Creation and Development of Democratic Institutions in Ancient Greece,” in Dunn (1992) 1-16. Kinzi, K. (ed.). 1995. Demokrana (Darmstadt). Koumoulides, J.A. (ed.). 1995. The Good Idea: Democracy in Ancient Greece (New Rochelle). Kyle, D.G. 1984. “Solon and Athletics,” Ancient World 9: 91-105. Kyle, D.G. 1985. review of D.C. Young, The Olympic Myth of Greek Amateur Athletics, in Classical Views 29: 134-142, Kyle, D.G. 1987. Athletics in Ancient Athens (Leiden). Latacz, J. 1977. Kampfparänese, Kampfdarstellung und Kampfwirklichkeit in der Ilias, bei Kallınos unter Tyrtatos (Munich). Leveque, P., & Vidal-Naquet, P. 1964. Chisthène l’Athémen (Paris) = Cleisthenes the Athenian (Atlantic Highlands, NJ 1996). Lewis, D.M. 1963. “Cleisthenes and Attica,” Historia 12: 22-40. Mau, J. & Schmidt, E.G. (eds.). 1964. Isonomia: Studien zur Gleichheitsvorstellung im griechischen Denken (Berlin). McDonnell, M. 1991. “The Introduction of Athletic Nudity: Thucydides, Plato, and the Vases,” FHS 111: 182-193. McDonnell, M. 1993. “Athletic Nudity among the Greeks and Etruscans: The Evidence of the ‘Perizoma vases’,” Spectacles sportifs et scéniques dans le monde Étrusco-italique, Collection de l’Ecole française de Rome 172, (Rome) 396-407. Miller, S.G. 1978. “The Date of the First Pythiad,” CSCA 11: 127-158. Miller, S.G. 1991. Arete (Berkeley). Miller, S.G. 1995. “Architecture as Evidence for the Identity of the Early Polis,” CPCAczs 2; 201-244, Miller, 5.6. Nemea II: The Early Hellenistic Stadium (forthcoming from the University of California Press).

Mitchell, L.G. & Rhodes, P.J. (eds.}. 1997. The Development of the Polis in Archaic Greece (London). Moretti, L. 1957. Olympionikai, i vincıtori negh antichi agoni olympici, Atti della accademia nazionale dei Lincei, Memorie, Classe di Scienze morali, storiche e filologiche 8 (Roma). Morris, I. 1996. “The Strong Principle of Equality and the Archaic Origins of Greek Democracy,” in Ober ἃ Hedrick (1996) 19-48. Morrissey, E.J. 1978. “Victors in the Prytaneion Decree (/G I 77),” GRBS 19: 121-125 Mosshammer, A.A. 1982. “The Date of the First Pythiad - Again,” GRBS 23: 15-30. Mouratidis, J. 1985. “The Origin of Nudity in Greek Athletics,” Journal of Sport History 12: 213-232. Neils, J. 1994.

“The

Panathenaia

and

Kleisthenic

Ideology,”

in W.D.E.

Coulson

(1994) 151-160. Neils, J. (ed.). 1996.

Worshipping Athena: Panathenata and Parthenon (Madison).

Ober, J. 1989. Mass and Elite in Democraric Athens (Princeton).

εἰ ai.

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Ober, J. 1996. The Athenian Revolution (Princeton) 32-52 = J. Ober, “The Athenian Revolution of 5087 B.C.E.” in C. Dougherty & L. Kurke (eds.). Cudtural Poetics in Archaic Greece (Cambridge) 215-232.

Ober, J. & Hedrick, C.W. (eds.). 1993. The Birth of Democracy:An Exhibinon Celebrating the 2500th Anniversary of Democracy (Athens). Ober, J. ἃ Hedrick, C.W. (eds.). 1996. Demokrana (Princeton). O'Neil, J.L. 1995. The Origin and Development of Geek Democracy (Lanham, Maryland). Osbome, R. 1985. “The Erection and the Mutilation of the Hermai,” PCPS n.s. 31: 47-73. Osborne, R. 1993. “Competitive festivals and the polis: a context for dramatic festivals at Athens,” in Sommerstein et αἱ. (1993) 21-37. Ostwald, M. 1969. Nomos and the Beginnings of the Athenian Democracy (Oxford). Pleket, H.W. 1992. “The Participants in the Ancient Olympic Games: Social Background and Mentality,” in Coulson & Kyrieleis (1992) 147-152. Poliakoff, M. 1987. Combat Sports in the Ancient World (New Haven). Raaflaub, K.A. 1995. “Kleischenes, Ephialtes und die Begründung der Demokratie,” in Kinzl (1995) 1-54. Raaflaub, K.A. 1997. “Soldiers, Citizens and the Polis,” in Mitchell & Rhodes (1997) 4959.

Raschke, W. (ed.). 1988. The Archaeology of the Olympics (Madison) Rhodes, P.J. 1997. “Introduction,” in Mitchell & Rhodes (1997) 1-8. Robinson, E.W. 1997. The First Democracies: Early Popular Government outside Athens, Historia Einzelschriften 107 (Stuttgart). Salmon, J. 1977. “Political Hoplites?” FHS 97: 84-101. Schuller, W. (ed.). 19898. Demokrane und Architekrur (Munich). Schuller, W. 1989b. “Das erste Auftreten der Demokratie,” in Schuller (19893) 52-56. Sealey, R. 1987. The Athemian Republic: Democracy or the Rule of Law? (University Park, Penn.). Shapiro, H.A. 1989. Art and Cult under the Tyrants in Athens (Mainz). Shear, T.L., Jr. 1994. “᾿᾿Ισονόμους τ᾽ ᾿Αθήνας ἐποιησάτην: The Agora and Democracy,” in Coulson et al. (1994) 225-248.

Siewert, P. 1977. “The Ephebic Oath in Fifth-Century Athens,” JHS 97: 102-111. Snodgrass, A.M. 1965. “The Hoplite Reform and History,” JHS 85: 110-122. Snodgrass, A.M. 1993. “The ‘Hoplite Reform’ Revisited,” Dialogues d'histoire ancienne 19: 47-61.

Sommerstein, A.H. εἰ al. (eds.). 1993. Tragedy, Comedy and ıhe Polis (Bari). Sweet, W.E. 1987. Sport and Recreation in Ancient Greece (Oxford). Valavanis, P. 1999, Hysplex, the Starting Mechanism in Ancient Stadia (Berkeley). Vlastos, G. 1953. “Isonomia,” AFP 74: 339-344. Vlastos, G. 1964. “"Ioovopla πολιτική," in Mau & Schmidt (1964) 1-3. Winkler, J.J. 1990. “The Ephebes’ Song: Tragöidia and Polis,” in Winkler & Zeitlin (1990) 20-62. Winkler, J.J. & Zeitlin, F.I. (eds.). 1990. Nothing to Do with Dionysos? (Princeton). Young, D.C. 1984., The Olympic Myth of Greek Amateur Athlencs (Chicago). Young, D.C. 1988. “How the Amateurs Won the Olympics,” in Raschke (1988) 55-75.

290

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G. MILLER

ADDENDUM The following publications came to my attention too late to be incorporated in my study, but they are relevant and future students of the subject of the relation between athletics and the origins of democracy need to be aware of them: Golden, Mark, Sport and Society in Ancient Greece (Cambndge 1998) esp. 141-175. Golden, Mark, “Equestrian Competition in Ancient Greece: Difference, Dissent, Democracy,” Phoenix 51 (1997) 327-344. Kyle,

Donald

G., “The

First Hundred

Olympiads:

A Process

of Decline

or Democra-

tization?,” Nikephoros 10 (1997) 53-75.

NOTES Very recently Robinson (1997) has presented the evidence that proves Athens to have been only one part - albeit the best documented - of a larger movement that resulted in democracies in

several ancient poleis in the sixth century BC. I would take this opportunity to thank Mark Golden for his careful reading and bibliographic suggestions that have much improved this paper. Or as Bonfante (1989) 543 has said in another context: “That we have not been more surprised by it is due to the fact that we follow in their tradition and take the Greeks as models, forgetting how

often their institutions and attitudes made

them

the exception,

and not the nile, among

ancient peoples.” Or as Hornblower

(1992)

2 puts it: “Even

if we concede

priority

[in the development

of

democracy] to the Greeks, we still need to ask, without much hope of an answer, what was special

about chem: Why democracy there?” What follows in this discussion does not provide a full answer, but perhaps it adds a little hope toward at least a partial answer to the question. E.g. Dunn (1992), Ober & Hedrick (1993), Coulson et al. (1994), Bleicken (1994), Kinzl (1995), Koumoulides (1995), O’Neil (1995), Ober & Hedrick (1996), Ober (1996).

This absence is particularly noticeable in Ober & Hedrick (1993) where we see that ancient Athenians had statues and made pottery, wore jewelry and sacrificed on marble altars, used bronze and iron weapons, vored in the Ekklesia and the Boule and the Dikastena, rowed ships and

had

official weights

and

disenfranchised women

measures,

made

shoes

and

drank

hemlock,

went

to the theater,

and slaves, and kept records of everything. But the existence in Athens

of athletes and athletics, of palaistra and gymnasium, of stadion and Aippodrome is not mentioned. Morris (1996) 34-35, who tries to have it both ways: “Stories of goat- and cowherds winning at Olympia have a mythical air, and in any case, the scale of rewards made victory an avenue of rapid promotion inte elite circles.” In other words, we either disregard our ancient sources, or we

believe that cowherds who won athletic competitions became a part of the aristocracy, even while they retained their epithets of low social origin? Pleket (1992), although admitting the possibility that, by the sixth century at least, “non-elite athletes” competed at Olympia (148), also tries to explain away Glaukos, for example, as a product of “the myth of the farmer-soldier.” Only Osbome (1993) 29 has acknowledged that “... even for athletic competition, the ambition of the individual aristocrat seems an inadequate explanauon for the compeutitve practices of the classical city ...” See, for example, the “three days in 508/7” of Ober (1996) 36ff., as contrasted with the 462 BC

of Raaflaub (1995) and of Rhodes (1997) 7 who has held this opinion for many years. Some believe the word “doubtless to be a word coined in the middle of the fifth century” (so, e.g., Sealey [1987]

102), while others chink it possible if not likely that the word was used as early as

NAKED DEMOCRACY

291

Kicisthenes (a0, especially, Hansen [1986] 36). So, for example, Forrest (1966)

168-174, whether as an idealist (so Ehrenberg

[1973]

89-103)

10.

or as an early practitioner of Realpolitik (so Lewis 11963] 39-40). So Ober (1996) 39-40 based on Har. 5.72.1-2.

11.

Ostwald (1969) 97. For tsonomia in city-states which did not have democratic constitutions such

as Thebes and Sparta, see Ostwald (1969) 117-118. It is now generally accepted that trononria was a prerequisite for the development of democracy; see, for example, Schuller (1989b) 53; but

some, ¢.g. Hornblower (1992) 8, feel that isonenna (and its running mate tegona = equal opportunity; see, ¢.g. Farrar [1988] 25-26) have been cited too confidently as necessary prerequisites to democracy. That may be true if we try to use them as the only ingredients, but T cannot believe that the notion of equality - and of liberty or eleurheria — were not very important in the development of democracy. Such a position takes comfort from the company of Arist. Pol 1301a29-31 even if the actual words for these concepts are poorly attested in early Athens as Hansen (1991) 82-84 reminds us. Shear (1994) 225 would have it that “the growth of the Agora and the rule of the Demos” were the causes that made “Athens loovdpouc.” This surely inverts

cause and effect. More recently this ancient concept has acquired a modem terminology: the “strong principle of equality”; see Dahl (1989) 98; cf. Morris (1996) 17ff. and Robinson (1997)

65-66, 49-50, and especially 45, n. 37. 12. 13. 14.

Vlastos (1953) especially p. 366, and Vlasıos (1964). As, for example, Ehrenberg (1973) 38 and 55. Snodgrass (1965). His arguments were debated and examined by Cartledge (1977) and Salmon (1977) both of whom acknowledge, however, that hoplite politics were aristocratic. In the meantime, Snodgrass’ archacologically based conclusions were supported and further defined by Latacz (1977) who showed that some

of the components

of phalanx warfare can be discerned

already in the Ikad. See Snodgrass (1993) and, most recently, Robinson (1997) 68-69 and n. 12, and Raaflaub (1997) 49-51.

15.

16.

The term was first coined, to the best of my knowledge, by Kyle (1984); cf. his definitive work on Athenian athletics (1987). For a more narrow definition of the term as outlined here and a defense of its use see Miller (forthcoming) end of Chapter VI. These types of athletics do, however, support another part of my argument, for many of them were competed in the nude. See, for example, Alexandre (1989) no. 97 (lampadedromia) and 100-101 (pyrrhiche). Neils

(1994)

154-155

discusses

the

evidence

for the

evandna

as

an

individual

or

a tribal

competition, and shows that it certainly was, at least in part, the latter. For another, in my opinion less successful, consideration of the euandria, see Boegehold (1996) 97-103. For a careful analysis

of another of this type of competition, the rragodia, see Winkler (1990). The problems of the date of inception of formal ephebic training need not detain us since whenever that began it demanded, by its very nature, an unquestioning obedience to officers that was antithetical to the inception of isonomia even as it was fundamental to the survival of the polis. Nonetheless, let it be said here tha: Siewert (1977) has shown that the ephebic oath must have existed by the early fifth century, and perhaps already a century cartier. It seems to me that the existence of the oath presupposes some sort of ephebic training. For the evidence of competitions that also presuppose precision and disciplined “team”

training in the late sixth century, see Winkler

(1990)

49 and

Goldhill (1990) 101. 17.

For this type of athletics as fundamental to the life of the polis (whether a democracy or not) see Miller (1995) 215. The distinction between polis and democracy must be always maintained, for

18. 19.

we have a tendency to think only of the example of Athens, but even there what was good for the polis might not be good for the democracy, and vice-versa. Winkler (1990) 41. Vitruvius, 7 Praef. 4-7; cf. Plutarch, Moraka 674D-675A. One wonders if the foremost position of the Olympic Games as opposed to, for example, the Pythian or the Isthmian was not due in part to the fact that musical competitions were not a part of the Olympic program. This excepts the competitions (which were later additions to the program in any event) for the herald and the trumpeter who were necessary functionaries as well as victors in the Olympic Games. Even the flute-player who played for the pentathlon at Olympia was not chosen by judges there, but was rather the winner in the flute-playing competition at Delphi (Paus. 6.14.10).

292

STEPHEN G. MILLER

20.

Paus. 10.9.2. A similar distrust in the objectivity of judges led Zaleukos to establish predetermined penalties for various crimes so that the same crime would always have the same punishment; Strabo 6.1.8.

21.

Although

22.

dead

hears

wherein

the

victor

might

be

determined

by

subjective

factors

can

theoretically occur in the running events, actual examples are in practice very rare. The only example attested from antiquity to the best of my knowledge is the case of Eupolemos of Elis and Leon of Ambrakia in the stadion event at the Olympic games in 396 BC; see Paus. 6.3.7. Although the Elean judges who voted for their compatriot were fined upon appeal by Leon, Eupolemos retains his position as victor in our sources; see Moretti (1957) no. 367. The other aspect of the foot races where subjectivity might enter is at the start, and the invention of the ‘tysplex starting mechanism obviated the need for judges’ decisions at that end of the race. See Valavanis (1999), This is most clearly seen in the Panathenaia where second place prizes were awarded in all the competitions, and even third, fourth, and fifth place prizes in some of the musical competitions; see 10 II? 2311. Modem scholarship has not paid sufficient attention to this distinction berween the stephanitic and the chrematitic games; the prizes in the latter were not only of cash value, but they were not restricted to the winners alone.

23.

Paus. 6.13.4; Lucian, Hermor. 40.

24.

Isoc. De bigis 33: ... οὐδενὸς ἀφυέστατος οὐδ᾽ ἀρρωστότερος τῷ σώματι γενόμενος τοὺς μὲν γυμνικοὺς ἀγῶνας ὑπερεῖδεν, εἰδὼς ἐνίους τῶν ἀθλητῶν καὶ κακῶς γεγονότας καὶ μικρὰς πόλεις οἰκοῦντας καὶ

25. 26.

ταπεινῶς πεπαιδευμένους, ἱπποτροφεῖν δ᾽ ἐπιχειρήσας, ὃ τῶν εὐδαιμονεστάτων ἔργον ἐστί, φαῦλος δ' οὐδεὶς ἂν ποιήσειεν .... The story is also told by Thuc. 6.16.2. For variations on the theme of chariot as a sign of wealth see Xen. Ages. 9.7 and Hier. 9.5-6, Ar. Nub. 1-118, et alıbı. Plut. Ages. 20.1: ... ὡς οὐδεμιὰς ἐστιν ἀρετῆς, ἀλλὰ πλούτου καὶ δαπάνης ἡ νίκη. See also Xen. Ages. 9 6.

21.

PI. Ap. 36D: ἵππῳ ἢ ξυνωρίδι À ζεύγει νενίκηκεν ᾿Ολυμπίασιν. See, in tabular form, the events οὗ the Olympics in 400 BC, in Miller (1991) 203.

28.

Morrissey (1978) 123-124.

29.

Hence even such a usually careful scholar as Kyle (1984) 96 and (1987) 4, 74, 113, 122, er al, can speak of “aristocratic athletics” at Athens even when the evidence is restricted to victors in equestrian events. See Young (1988) 73 for the “assumption that all archaic Greek athletes were wealthy aristocrats of noble birth.” Young treces the development of this assertion to faulty scholarship of the late 19th and early 20th century. Certainly we should not blame Pindar if we moderns misread his intent and misunderstand the nature of his patrons in the larger societal setting of antiquity and attempt to assert that all competitors in the gymnikos agon were aristocrats. The evidence that we possess, fragmented and fragile as it is, shows that the contrary was certainly true by the late fifth century, and suggests that the contrary had also been true in the late sixth century and earlier, In other words, those who would claim that al athletics were exclusively aristocratic from the beginning must prove their contention. It is not a given.

30.

Ehrenberg (1973) 181 and 186, respectively.

31.

Pind. Pyth. 11.41-42, isth. 2.6-8,

32.

Although 6 of the odes celebrate hippic victories, OL 2 and Of 3 are for the same victory, and it is possible that OL 4 and Οἱ. 5 are also for a single victory. The latter is, however, not proven, and

I shall count Οἱ 4 and Οἱ 5 here as separate and different victorics. 33.

34.

For these dates see Miller (1978) 135-136. They are based on calculating Pythiads from 586 BC and not 582 BC as is commonly done. Mosshammer (1982) 17-18 denies that ἃ Pythiad era date was used in antiquity, but that position ignores the fact that Pausanias and the Pindaric scholiasts both use one. It seems clear that they were looking at something very like the lists of Olympic victors that are preserved to us as, for example, P Oxy Π. 222, but which gave the information for Pythian victors. This position has been accepted and further elucidated by Brodersen (1990). See further below, n. 66. Pyth. 2 seems to celebrate an equestrian victory in local games at Thebes, while Pyth. 4 and Pyrh. 5 celebrate a single victory at Delphi.

35.

Ischm. 1.64-67.

NAKED DEMOCRACY 36.

293

This does not mean that there were not wealthy competitors in the gymnic events in Pindar’s day. The presence of such men is not only implicit in the existence of odes written for them, but also to be seen in the example

(and others could be cited)

of Melissos of Thebes who

won a Nemean

equestrian victory and an Isthmian gymnic victory (Pind. Ischm. 3 and Isthm. 4, respectively).

Young (1984) 147-157, εἰ alibi. Young (1984) 156; cf. Morris and Pleket, supra n. 6. Young later (1988, 62) “demythologized” and more clearly accepted these early Olympic victors ss true members of the lower classes. Arist. Rh. 1365220 (cf. 1367218) may indicate that the fishmonger was an exception, but he also thereby shows that such lower class athletes were present at the Games whether they won or not. Indeed, what is exceptional in Aristotle's account is not that the fishmonger competed, but that he won. Pleket (1992)

151 would see Alkibiades’ action as reflecting “increasing numbers of lower class

athletes in Olympia.” That the numbers of lower class athletes certainly increased throughout the Classical period is clear, but that such athietes could and did participate from a much earlier date - in whatever numbers - is also clear. Further, we must remember that the quality of our sources improves as we come down in time and this may account, in part, for our knowledge of ever more athletes, including those of the lower classes. 41.

See, for example, the flogging being administered to a pankratiast who is gouging the eye of his opponenton an Attic red figure kylix of the early fifth century now in the British Museum (E 78) shown in Alexandre (1989) 291 no. 179.

42.

The obvious example is the number of victors who could afford Pindaric odes who also used Melesias of Athens as a trainer; Pind. Οἱ. 8, Nem. 4, and Nem. 6. But see Young (1984) 148-149. See also Finley & Pleket (1976) 71.

43.

The only modem scholar, to the best of my knowledge, who seems to have appreciated this potential is Shapiro (1989) 40: “If the introduction of so many new events [in 566 BC] had a local political purpose, and was not simply intended to emulate the older panhellenic games, it would have been to ‘democratize’ the Panathenaia by allowing Athenians who could not afford horses to compete. We may suspect here the influence of Peisistratos, who presented himself as a champion of the poor ...” The more typical characterization of all athletics as aristocratic leads scholars into paradoxes. Hence, for example, Ober (1989) 281-282 would have Aischines presenting his father to an Athenian jury as both aristocrat and democrat: “ ... his father had engaged in the aristocratic pastime of athletic competition ... ... during the reign of the Thirty, Atrometus - like all good democrats -- went into exile ...” It is not clear to me that either the text or the best interests of Aischines demand the claim that it is aristocratic ἀθλεῖν τῷ σώματι (2.147). Kyle (1985) 142: “nude noble and non-noble looked alike on the rack”.

45.

Nudity as a representative of democracy, but not as a cause, has been noted by Halperin (1990) 103: “ ... in classical Athens, it seems, the symbolic language of democracy proclaimed on behalf

of each citizen, ‘I, too, have a phallus’”. experience today in the locker room is might well be nude for hours at a time Halperin (1990) 104; see also Osborne

We should also remember that the nudity we commonly of brief duration compared with that of the ancient who -- in front of his peers. (1985) 61 and 65-67; Shapiro (1989) 125-132.

It has been noted in discussions of athletics as, for example, Poliakoff (1987)

12-13 and n. 15.

See, for example, Aeschin. Jn Tim. 9-12. From the Hellenistic period see, for example, the gymnasiarchal law from Verroia in SEG 27 261B 61-71.

See, for example, the herms discovered in the palaistra at Delos from the time of the Athenian colonization; Audiat (1970) 121-122. For the herm as the base for portraits of kosmezai see, inter ahos, Alexandre (1989) 192-194, nos. 85 and 86. For the role of the kosmetes in ephebic education in Athens (and therefore in the gymnasium) see Arist. Ath. Pol. 42.2.

Cic. Ag. 1.8, 9, and 10. Copenhagen 6327; ARV* 413.16; LIMC “Hermes” no. 108. I saw this krater in the museum at Agrigento in 1991 and purchased a slide of it then, but I have not been able to find any published reference to it. Neils (1994) 154-156. Vienna 3691 by the Epidromos Painter; CVA (Wien) 1, pl. 2, 5-6; ARI* 118.8. See also Shapiro (1989) 132. I would like to thank Crawford Greenewalt for pointing out the existence of the

STEPHEN G. MILLER

294

55.

56.

57.

preliminary sketch to me. Hollein (1988) 71-85. Hollein’s interpretation (222) of his own observations as representing, in his “palaistra” category, an aristocratic counterbalance to the “agora” category of representations, begs the question. I do not believe that the evidence can be so neatly assigned to social strata. Neils (1994) 152 has also noted that representations of the pyrrhiche alao begin at about 510 BC, and Osborne (1993) 27 points out “a particularly high frequency of competitive innovations [at Athens] in the fifty years after 510.” Bonfante (1989) 557 seems to have appreciated this possibility: “The introduction of athletic nudity into the everyday life of the gymnasium and palaestra was part of a ‘modern’ way of life, freer, simpler, more democratic ...” Or perhaps as early as Solon if we are to trust the attribution to him of a law prescribing the death penalty for theft from the Akademy, the Lykeion, and Kynosarges by Dem. 24.114. See Kyle (1984)

58.

102, n. 77, for assessments of this law as Solonian by some modern scholars and as non-

Solonian by others. See Kyle (1987) 72-73, 79, and 88-90, respectively, for the evidence concerning the three different gymnasia. Kyle is judiciously cautious about some of the evidence, particularty for Kynosarges, but since the evidence for a Peisistratid date for the first two gymnasia is strong, I see no reason to question the admittedly lesa strong evidence for the last. For the location of this gymnasium, see Billot (1992).

59.

Plut. Them. 1.3. See Kyle (1987) 88-90 for an appraisal of the historicity of Plutarch’s account. I can see no reason save preconception for questioning it given that there is no evidence against it. 1 must also state that I know of no evidence that the use of these gymnasia was restricted to the wealthy or the aristocratic despite the frequent modern statements that such was the case. It sometimes seems that we are to suppose that the ancient Athenian became a democrat only when he entered the Agora. A part of the problem is the assumption made by scholars that athletics was the exclusive practice of the wealthy to which we have already spoken. But another part of the problem is a failure to read the ancient sources carefully with the distinction between athletic competitions, on the one hand, and gymnastic exercise and education, on the other, in mind. Thus, for example, Ober (1989) 282 can say “Aeschines’ brother Philochares, he [Aischines)

asserts, was not a man of unaristocratic pursuits (agenneis diarribas) as you, Demosthenes, insultingly stated (blasphemies), but a man who engaged in athletic pursuits (gumnasiots diatribon)' … ” But the text of Aischines (2.149: ἐν γυμνασίοις διατρίβων) should be understood to refer to the education of Philochares who has “spent time in the gymnasia”, whom Aischines, in other words, characterizes as a cultured man; he makes no statement about Philochares as an athlete.

That Aischines is careful and precise in this use emerges from his contrasting and specific use of the phrase gymnikos agon to refer to actual athletic competition (3.206: ... ἐν τοῖς γυμνικοῖς ἀγῶσιν).

60.

(Xen.] Ath. pol. 1.13.

61.

Moretti

nos.

58

and

228,

respectively.

See

also

the table

in Kyle

(1987)

104-105,

and

his

acknowledgement that in the sixth century the Athenians had “a preoccupation with hippotrophy” (111) and that the Athenian “gennetat seem preoccupied with hippotrophy” (121), but that beginning in 490 BC “‘new athletes’ -- not euparndai but not poneroi — appear in both equestrian and gymnastic events” (121). Osborne’s (1993, cited above n. 55) observations about

the increase in competitve festivals in Athens during this same period should also be remembered. 62. 63. 64.

65.

Pind. Οἱ, 8.54; Nem. 4.93 and 6.65. Paus. 1.44.1; cf. the inscription from Megara that Pausanias may have seen and quoted: [Ὁ VII 52. Thuc. 1.6.5-6. Pl. Resp. 5.452C, echoes Thucydides on this point of not much time having passed since the Greeks thought it shameful to be seen nude. The precise date of the introduction of nudity is complicated by the statements of Thucydides and Plato cited above, and by the series of black-figure vases of about 520 BC on which athletes

are shown with white perizomata painted around their waists; see ABV 343-346: “The Perizoma Group”. Three points need to be made about this series of vase paintings: 1) they stand out as unique in and they represent a tiny fraction of the portrayals of athletes who are otherwise always shown nude in this period; 2) the genitals of the athletes on these very vases were originally depicted as is clear by the incised representation of them, and only after painting and firing were

NAKED

DEMOCRACY

295

the painted loincloths added to these pots; 3) although of Attic workmanship, all of these vases the provenience of which is known were discovered in Etruna. It is, then, likely that they reflect

Etruscan tastes and an Athenian painter catering to those tastes rather than Athenian or Greek practices in general of this period. One needs only to count the representations of nude athletes in vase-painting and to look at the kouros type of statue to understand that nudity was the norm during the whole of the sixth century. I cannot, therefore, agree with Crowther (1982) 167 who uses these vases as evidence for non-nudity in athletics before the Persian Wars. Nor do I agree with Mouratidis (1985) 213-214 who sees in these vases a reflection of an attempt to introduce loincloths into Athens at that time. See also Sweet (1987) 124-127. For a more complete

discussion of the Perizoma Group, its significance and purpose, see McDonnell

(1991) and

(1993), who reaches the same conclusions presented here; see also Bonfante (1989) 564 for this group, arid 549-555 for the date of the introduction of the custom.

66.

It has been noted that this is also the ame when the Eleusinian Mysteries seer to begin to take on a Panhellenic character, see Clinton (1994) 163. Although the Pythian Games were reckoned from 586 HC (see above, n. 33), they really became a part of the cycle in the second Pythiad of 582 when they turned to the stephanitic prize of a wreath of laurel.

67.

Paus. 5.9.4. It is also at this period that the Eleians clearly had concern about festivals that were rivalling the Olympics and sought advice from the Egyptian Peammis about how to maintain the dominance of the Olympics; see Hdt. 2.160.

68.

Mention should be made of the supposed legislation of Solon that set up prizes for Athenian victors at the Olympic and the Isthmian Games; Plat. Sof. 23.3. Among the problems with this passage is first that the [sthmian Games

were almost certainly not yet a part of the cycle at the

time of Solon’s legislation and that the number of Athenian victors at Olympia throughout this period is so small that one wonders at the need for the supposed legislation. See Kyle (1984) 9498 for a full discussion of the historicity and the intention of this legislation. See also Young

(1984) 128-133. 69.

Arist. Ath. Pol. 41.2. Whether or not one regards the Solonian constitution as a true democracy,

T think that we must agree with Aristotle that it was an important step on the road to democracy. And Aristotle himself understood chat the Kleisthenic version was δημοτικωτέρα τῆς Σόλωνος. 70.

Lévéque & Vidal-Naquet (1964) 91-107 (the chapter entided “Clisthéne pythagoricien?”) = idem (1996) 63-72.

11.

The 3 was “reflected” in the zones (town, coast, and inland), the 5 (its multiples, more properly

speaking) in the 50 prytaneis and the 500 bowleutat, and the 10 in the tribes. 72.

The text is most easily accessible in Ostwald

73.

Ostwald (1969) 97-106.

74.

Vlastos (1953) 344-347; conrra Ehrenberg (1950) 535.

(1969) 99 and 177-178.

75,

Ostwald (1969) 100.

76.

Young (1984) 134-146 assembles most of the evidence. In what follows here is one significant difference with Young's data. Although he believes that the athlete Astylos competed in 488 and 484 BC for Kroton before jumping to Syracuse in 480 BC and the evidence of Paus. 6.13.1 can be interpreted to support that position, I suspect that Astylos was enticed to transfer his allegiance to Syracuse in 484 BC soon after the establishment of the Deinomenid dynasty there in 485. But neither position seems capable of proof.

77.

Strabo 6.1.12: ἐν μιᾷ γοῦν ᾿Ολυμπιάδι of τῶν ἄλλων προτερήσαντες τῷ σταδίῳ ἑπτὰ ἄνδρες ἅπαντες ὑπῆρξαν Κροτωνιᾶται, Sot’ εἰκότως εἰρῆσθαι δοκεῖ, διότι Κρωτωνιατῶν ὁ ἔσχατος πρῶτος ἦν ἄλλων

78.

᾿Ἑλλήνων. To be sure, there were during this period 258 different competitions -- and victors - in the Olympic Games and the names of 187 do not survive. But even if none of those missing athletes was from Kroton, that single polis would still be responsible for 8% of the victories. The polis with the second highest number of victors known from this period is Sparta with 4 or 1.5% in contrast to Kroton’s 8%.

79.

Paus. 10.9.2; cf. Hdı. 8.47.5; Ar. Ach. 215 and scholia ad loc.; Zen. 6.23; the Suda , τυ. ὑπὲρ τὰ ἐσκαμμένα.

80.

Strabo 6.1.12; Young (1984) 140. One wonders why, if it was Kroton’s purpose to buy Olympic victories, she did not follow the path subsequently used by Alkibiades (n. 24 above) or by the polis

296

STEPHEN G. MILLER of Argos (P OxyIL. 222 -- in 480 and 472 BC) and simply buy homes? I believe this consideration of the difference between the gymnikos and the Aippiko: agon undermines Young’s contention.

81. 82.

See, e.g., Finley & Pleket (1976) 70-73; Ober (1989) 85; Fox (1995) 83; Morris (1996) 34-35; et αἱ. Robinson (1997) 76-77.

83.

Hdt. 3.129-133,

84.

E.g. by Pl. Resp. 3.496A.

85.

As Robinson (1997) 126 pus it: “A pan-Hellenic movement toward egalitarianism, detectable early in the archaic period, preceded democracy.”

Argos. Une Autre Démocratie

MARCEL PIERART

βέλτιστος yap ὁ γεωργικός ἐστιν (Aristote, Politique, 1318b9).

Les Untersuchungen zur Verfassungsgeschichte von Argos im 5. Jahrhundert vor Christus de M. Wörrle datent de 1964. Cette étude soignée et exhaustive avait

pu bénéficier des découvertes des fouilles conduites à Argos par l’École française de 1952 à 1958. Elle n’a pas été remplacée. La reprise des fouilles dans la ville en 1966, l’ouverture du chantier de Nemee par l’Université de

Californie en 1973 et les nombreuses fouilles du Service archéologique ont mis au jour des documents qui ont largement renouvelé nos connaissances. Certains

d’entre

prématurée.

eux

demeurent

inédits,

rendant

une

nouvelle

synthèse

L’etude que j’ai le plaisir d’offrir ici au grand connaisseur des

institutions grecques qu’est Mogens Hansen devrait permettre au lecteur de faire le point des connaissances actuelles sur les réformes que les Argiens ont faites dans le second quart du V° siècle, lorsqu'ils se dotérent d’une constitution démocratique, et sur les modifications institutionnelles qui découlérent à Argos de la réorganisation des affaires grecques après la bataille de Chéronée. Pour la commodité

du lecteur, j’ai suivi, dans cette mise au point, le plan

adopté par M. Wörrle dans son ouvrage.

1. Les subdivisions de la population’ 1.0 Le nom complet du citoyen argien contient, en plus du nom propre et du patronyme,

au génitif, un

ou

deux

éléments

permettant

de reconnaître

a

quelles subdivisions de la population il appartient. Un décret du milieu du III‘ s. accordant la citoyenneté à un habitant de Sicyone appelé Alexandros prévoit l'enregistrement du nouveau citoyen sur les stèles érigées dans le sanctuaire d’Apollon Lycien, la où ont été transcrits les noms des autres citoyens, dans la tribu, la phatra et la pentekostys de son choix (ἀ[ϊν]γράψαι ἐνς tave στάλανς τὰνς ἐν τῶι ἱερῶι τοῦ ᾿Απόλλωνος τοῦ Λυκείου, I καὶ toi ἄλλοι πολῖται γεγραβάνται, Eivk φυλὰν καὶ φάτραν

καὶ πεντηκοστύν, ἄν κα αὐτὸς προαιρῆται).᾽

établir ainsi l’existence de trois subdivisons.

On

peut

298

MARCEL PIERART

1.1 Subdivision I: La tribu (φυλῇ. Aussi loin que l’on remonte dans le temps

et aussi bas que l’on descende, Argos a connu les trois tribus doriennes célébres. Etienne de Byzance, qui parait tenir le renseignement d’Ephore,

notait:* Δυμᾶνες- φυλὴ Δωριέων. σαν δὲ τρεῖς: ᾿Υλλεῖς καὶ Πάμφυλοι καὶ Δυμᾶνες, ἐξ ᾿Ηρακλέους (καὶ προσετέθη ἡ ᾿Ὑρνηθία), ὡς Ἔφορος. Dymanes: tribu dorienne. Il y en avait trois: les Hylleis, les Pamphyloi et

les Dymanes, d’apres d’Heracles (s’y est ajoutee la tribu Hyrnathia), selon Ephore.

Nous ignorons quand une quatrième tribu, celle des Hyrnathioi, vint se joindre aux trois autres,” mais son éponyme, Hyrnethö, vénérée ἃ Argos autant qu’à Epidaure, se rattache - mais de maniére un peu plus artificielle - au méme système légendaire.* Sous le régime démocratique, la population argienne était

répartie en quatre tribus. Dans les inscriptions qui en mentionnent plusieurs, elles apparaissent habituellement dans le méme ordre:’

IG IV 517

IGY 1149

Inv. E 86

SEG 24 361

IG IV 487

460-450

458 (?)

Vs.

-400

VIT

Dédicace des

Liste des

Liste de ci-

hiéromnémons

. Argiens morts à

toyens et de

|

Tanagra

Aupéve

métèques

Huldées

|

[-------- Ι

(ἁξρέτευε)

Dédicace

au combat

d'officiers de la

Hude

᾿Υλλεῖς

cavalerie Ὁ)

|

Te ᾿Ὑρνάθιος

! Liste de morts

|

Πανφύλιλιας

-------- Ι

------- Ι

Παμφῦλιι

ΖΠαμφῦλαι

I-

[-------- ͵

"Ypvabıoı

“Ὑρνάθιοι

-- - - -- Ι

[-------- ]

)

Δυμᾶνες

Δυμᾶνες

|

{Av

vec]

L'ordre officiel semble avoir été ᾿Ὑλλεῖς, Παμφῦλαι, ᾿Ὑρνάθιοι, Δυμᾶνες. Étienne de Byzance énumère les tribus “doriennes” en respectant la même disposition. Seule l’inscription JG IV 517, une dédicace du collège des hiéromnémons de

l’Héraion, fait exception. La préséance du Dyrnane dans ce collège peut être due à son statut de président. Mais le Pamphylas y figure en fin de liste et non

après le ᾿Ὑλλεύς. 1.2 Subdivision II: la phratrie (bérpa)? Dans les documents les plus anciens, les magistrats sont désignés par le nom, le patronyme au génitif et le phylétique. Des

le milieu

du -V" s., un

nom

de forme

patronymigue

ou ethnique

se

ARGOS. UNE AUTRE DEMOCRATIE

299

substitue au phyletique dans la désignation des citoyens, des magistrats en particulier. Voici la liste des noms publiés (avec, quand elle est connue, leur

appartenance):® 1. Αἰθαλέες 2. Αἰθωνίδαι

22. Κερκάδαι (Δυμᾶνες) 23. Κλεοδαῖδαι

3. Αἰσχιάδαι (Παμφῦλαι)

24. Κυλάραβοι

4. ᾿Αμφιαρητεῖδαι (Δυμᾶνες) 5(9 ᾿Αμφισέες

25. Λευκυρίδαι 26. ΛΔυκοφρονίδαι

6 (?) ᾿Αντοχέες

27. ΛΔυκωτάδαι

1. ᾿Αναιτίδαι 8 ᾿Αραχνάδαι

28. Μελανιππίδαι 29. Μόκλαι

9. ᾿Αρκεῖδαι 10. ᾿Αρκωΐδαι (Auuüvec)

30. Ναυπλιάδαι (᾿ Tpvaßıoı) 31 ᾿Ολισσεῖδαι (Παμφῦλαι)

I ᾿Αχαίοι

32. ᾿Οφελλοκληΐδαι

12. Δαιφοντέες (᾿ Tpvaßıoı)

33. Παιονίδαι

13. Δαμοιτάδαι

34. Πωλαθέες

14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21.

35 (7) Σαλαμίδαι 36. Σμιρεῖδαι 37. Σφυρηΐδαι 38. Τημενίδαι (' Ὑρνάθιοι) 39. ᾿γάδαι 40. Φολυγάδαι 41 Ω) - -, - οὐάμειοι

Διξωνύσιοι ἀμαϊππίδαι (Ὑρνάθιοι) Δυμμάδαι Δωριάδαι (Δυμᾶνες) Δωριέες (Παμφῦλα!ι) Εὐαλκίδαι Favidaı ᾿Ηρα(ι)έες ( Tpvaßıoı)

Le document financier de la tribu des Hyrnathioi mentionne ci-dessous ajoute

trois noms nouveaux.’ Dans leur écrasante majorite, ces noms sont formés a l’aide de suffixes en

-18a¢ ou -adac. On trouve également quelques noms en -a¢ de la premiere déclinaison et des dérivés en -eûç. Les noms de ces subdivisions, dans la mesure

où le mécanisme de leur formation est compréhensible, se rattachent à deux ou trois systemes qui ont nettement pris le pas sur les autres: la plupart sont dérivés d’anthroponymes

dont certains sont connus par la tradition comme

héros, d’autres peuvent l’avoir été. On trouve aussi quelques théophores, des

ethniques et des noms tirés de toponymes. W. Vollgraff avait astucieusement rapproché une notice de l’Etymologicum Magnum sur la formation des noms des demes attiques.'° Les noms de la subdivision II à Argos paraissent avoir une origine analogue.

Deux documents nouveaux ont permis d’établir que cette modification est la conséquence - immédiate ou légèrement différée — d’une réforme en profondeur des institutions. Dans

la liste SEG

24 361

(vers ~400), les soldats

morts à la guerre sont rangés par tribu et d’après la division II. D’autre part, l'inscription SEG 41 284, une plaque de bronze contenant une liste de versements de la tribu des Hyrnathioi, nous apprend que la tribu était divisée

300

MARCEL PIERART

en douze sous-groupes.'' Ii y en avait sans doute 48 en tout. On en connaît aujourd’hui 44, dont 40 sont tout a fait sürs. Le systéme est une nouvelle preuve de l’engouement pour les constructions géométriques qui caractérise

la fin de l’époque archaique.'* La plupart des spécialistes ont identifié la subdivision II avec la φάτρα du

décret pour Alexandros de Sicyone.” Bien qu’il subsiste un léger doute en faveur de la xevrnrootüc, * cette identification est la plus probable.

Le remplacement du phylétique par le “phatronymique”, plus précis, est la conséquence de la réforme. Comme les tribus n’ont pas été supprimées -- bien au contraire -, il se peut que l'emploi du phylétique soit resté en usage pendant quelque temps pour désigner les citoyens avant de disparaître au profit du “phatronyme”.

La stèle de l’accord entre Argos, Cnossos

érigée sous le roi Melantas,

quand

et Tylissos a été

Lykotadas, de la tribu des Hylleis, était

président. Peu de temps après, on a gravé sur la stèle un décret dont l'intitulé

est daté par un président du conseil désigné par sa phatra (?).'” 1.3 Subdivision III: la pentekostys (revrnxoaruüc)? Dans un grand nombre

de

documents datant du dernier tiers du IV" s. et du ~III' s., — surtout des décrets honorifiques ou des proxénies — le nom du citoyen argien comprend, à côté ou à la place du dérivé de type patronymique marquant l'appartenance à la phatra

(?), un nom qui figure toujours au nominatif, en apposition. Par exemple Λαχάρης Μίθωνος Μελανιππίδας

‘Toéa ἄνω, Le caractère topographique de ce

type de subdivision n’est pas douteux. Dans plusieurs cas, nous avons affaire

à des

localités

connues

autrement:

Asina,

Cléonai,

Lyrkeion,

Mykana,

Prosymna, Hyséa, Zarax. On a observé un certain laxisme dans l’utilisation de

ce nouvel element.'® Vu le caractère toponymique de cet élément, la plupart des historiens y ont vu une κώμα, du nom dont les habitants de Mycènes désignent la communauté à laquelle ils appartiennent.'’ Le décret pour Alexandros de Sicyone invite à

penser que la subdivision III a pu porter le nom de πεντηκοστύς. ἢ Dans l’état actuel des connaissances, le mot κώμη n’apparaît dans aucun document officiel de la cité pour désigner un de ces éléments de caractère topographique.'° Si l’on n’identifie pas le nouvel élément du nom du citoyen à la pentekostys du

décret SEG 25 362, il reste à expliquer pourquoi la köma n’y apparaît pas. Le

rapport

entre

la subdivision

III

et

les deux

autres

n’apparait

pas

clairement. W. Vollgraff®° a voulu faire des tribus des circonscriptions locales,

dont les pentekostyes seraient des subdivisions comparables aux ¢riftyes attiques. Même si, comme on le verra, les tribus se sont partagées le domaine public,°! elles demeurent des subdivisions personnelles, auxquelles on appartient par la

naissance et non par le domicile.”

ARGOS. UNE AUTRE DEMOCRATIE

301

Des individus de la méme phatra (?) peuvent appartenir 4 des pentekostyes (?)

différentes.** Dans certains cas, phatrai (?) et pentekostyes (2) portent des noms morphologiquement

identiques:

à Arachnas

correspond

la phatra

(?) des

Arachnadai, a Pholygas, celle des Pholygadai, a Paionis, celle des Paionidai.

Or, on connaît un [᾿ Ολισ)σείδας ᾿Αραχνάς à côté du “phatronyme” 'Apaxvädac; un Σφυρηΐδας Κερκάς a côté du “phatronyme”

Κερκάδας.

Cette particularité

s’explique si l’on admet qu’on est en présence de systèmes créés à des moments différents. Lorsqu'on a créé les phatrai (?), vers “460, certaines ont été désignées ἀπὸ τόπων.“ Lors de la mise en place du nouveau système, les gens avaient pu bouger de place: des Olisseidai se trouvaient 4 Arachnas, toponyme

qui a donné son nom à la pharra (?) homonyme, ou des Sphyreidai à Kerkas. Le plus ancien document datable où apparaît le nouvel élément est l’arbitrage argien pour les îles de Mélos et Kimolos, qui doit dater des années qui ont suivi ~338/7.”* Il faut peut-être le mettre en rapport avec la récupération de la Cynourie par Argos à ce moment. L’accroissement du territoire argien a pu rendre nécessaire l’établissement de ληξιαρχικὰ ypappateia à partir de re-

groupements topographiques. Ii est certain en tout cas qu’au -HI s., les habitants des territoires récupérés sont enröles dans les phatrai (?) remontant au

VE 5.78 La mise en serie chronologique des documents montre que, dans un premier temps, l'emploi de l'élément toponymique a tendu à être général. Mais il n’a jamais réussi à supplanter totalement l’ancien système, à cause de la force de l’habitude, peut-être, mais surtout parce que les tribus et les pharrai (?) de-

meuraient un des rouages essentiels de la vie publique.*’ Quoi qu’il en soit, dans l’état actuel des connaissances, la fonction de cette nouvelle subdivision

nous échappe.

2. Les institutions de la cité 2.0 Les inscriptions

mises

au jour ou publiées après la dissertation de M.

Worrle ont révélé l’importance des tribus dans la vie politique et économique

de la cité. Les institutions municipales, que quelques textes de l’époque hellénistique nous permettent d’entrevoir, nous éclairent aussi sur les institutions de la cité.

2.1 Les institutions municipales. Trois décrets du -III ou du début du -IF s. émanant de la kémé de Mycènes permettent de voir que l’assemblée y était

présidée par le président des démiurges (ἀρήτευε Sapropyav).”” Les δαμιοργοί géraient les affaires du déme, avec l’aide d’un secrétaire, d’un trésorier et, pour

302

MARCEL PIERART

la fête

des

Dionysies,

d’un

agonothete.

Un

texte

de

l’époque

archaïque

provenant de Mycènes confiait aux hiéromnémons de Persée des fonctions judiciaires “s’il n’y a pas de démiurges (ai μὴ δαμιοργία ein)”.”” Plutôt qu’une réminiscence

des

temps

anciens,

on

verra

plutôt

dans

les démiurges

de

l’époque hellénistique une imitation d’une institution répandue dans d’autres cités du Péloponnèse, en particulier à l’époque de la ligue achaienne, à laquelle

semblent appartenir les trois textes.” Une dédicace des gens d’Asine, vers la même époque, prouve que d’autres communautés

locales se sont organisées d’une manière analogue.” Même

si

Pon continue d’admettre que ce sont des noms de köme qui figurent dans la

nomenclature des Argiens de la fin du -IV° et du ~III‘s., nous ne sommes pas autorisés à penser qu’à l’instar des dèmes attiques, ces bourgades jouent un rôle dans le gouvernement de la cité. Ce sont des communautés locales qui gèrent des affaires locales. 2.2 Les institutions phyletiques. Les comptes inédits de la tribu des Hyrnathioi contiennent des versements

aux douze phatrai (Ὁ) de la tribu. Ils sont au-

thentifiés par le président du collège des Douze (oi Δυώδεκα), celui du collège des

ποδελονόμοι

ἰαροθῦται

et deux

témoins

(axdw).

Un

versement

est fait

à deux

(au duel), qui paraissent aussi être des magistrats de la tribu.

L'administration des domaines sacrés et publics était confiée - du moins à

l’époque romaine - à un δωτινατὴρ τᾶς ἱερᾶς καὶ δαμοσίας χώρας. Plusieurs indices permettent de croire que ces terres publiques étaient réparties entre les

tribus. On connaissait depuis longtemps l’existence d’un quartier appelé Παμφυλιακόν. Une inscription de bronze de la fin du ~IV“ 5. mentionne des χωρία τὰ ἐν ᾿Υρναθίαι (sc. χώραι). Une autre trouvaille inédite remontant au milieu du ~V* s. est une borne de la tribu des ᾿Ὑλλεῖς, avec le chiffre 600.” Les tribus et leur administration avaient donc des prérogatives importantes dans la gestion des terres publiques. Ces documents attestent aussi le rôle qu’elles jouaient dans la vie religieuse de la cité, notamment dans l’organisation des fêtes et des sacrifices. Leur rôle dans la vie militaire n’était pas moindre.

Les citoyens étaient enrôlés dans les tribus.” La cavalerie, attestée des le -IV* s., était commandée par deux ilarques par tribu, en plus du commandant du régiment d’élite. Comme

à Athènes et dans tant d’autres cités, les tribus et

leurs subdivisions ont dû servir de base à l’organisation de la vie politique proprement dite.

ARGOS.

UNE AUTRE DEMOCRATIE

303

2.3 Les institutions politiques 2.3.1 L'assemblée du peuple.”* L’assemblee s’appelle ἀλιαία. Les décrets utilisent

aussi la formule ἔδοξε (δεδόχθαι) τῶι δάμωι (τῶν ᾿Αργείων). Les inscriptions serpentines de Tirynthe tombent hors des limites chronologiques de la présente étude.

Elles sont les documents

les plus anciens

actuellement

connus

qui

associent les termes ἀλιιαίνα et δᾶμος.ἢ Les décrets argiens de l’époque hellénistique émanent habituellement d’une assemblée appelée ἀλιαία τελεία. Elle se réunissait, semble-t-il, une fois par mois, non pas à date fixe, mais plutôt vers la fin du mois. Dans de nombreux cas, le document apporte la précision ἀμβολίμωι ἐκ τοῦ suivi du nom du mois.

Elle paraît indiquer que lorsque l’ordre du jour n’avait pu être épuisé, les points à traiter l’étaient dans une assemblée dite ἀμβόλιμος (reportée).* Celle-

ci se tenait habituellement le mois suivant.” P. Charneux” fait de ἀμβολίμωι un neutre substantivé “par renvoi de”. Cette interprétation ne s’accorde guère

avec la place de l’expression dans les premiers décrets où la formule apparaît. Ph. Gauthier, notant que la plupart des décisions reportées portent sur des décisions honorifiques et qu’on prend soin de préciser qu’il y a eu report, y voit “l'application

de

procédures

contraignantes

soit

dans

le calendrier

et

le

programme des assemblées, soit dans la législation” .“ Vers

~450,

une

assemblée

était

expressément

consacrée

aux

affaires

sacrees.*' Vers 300, les hiera étaient traitées dans 1᾿ἀλιαία τελεία. Comme il est d’usage fréquent, les affaires sacrées étaient traitées en premier: on accorde aux citoyens d’Aspendos le privilège d’être introduits devant l’assemblée “les premiers après les affaires sacrées et les Rhodiens (πράτοις πεδὰ τὰ ἰαρὰ καὶ τὸνς

‘Podiove)”. En cas d’urgence, ou lorsque les magistrats compétents en ressentaient le

besoin, on devait pouvoir convoquer des assemblées spéciales.” 2.3.2 Le Conseil.“ Les décrets sont authentifiés par le nom (ἀρήτευε

βωλᾶς)

et — le plus

souvent

— par celui du

du président

secrétaire

du

conseil

(γροφεὺς βωλᾶς), ce qui permet de supposer que le conseil exerçait une activité probouleumatique. La nomenclature des magistrats, où apparaît d’abord la tribu, puis, dès le milieu du ~V* s., la phatra (?), invite à penser que tribus et phratries étaient des rouages essentiels de la vie politique. Mais les modalités du fonctionnement des institutions nous échappe toujours en grande partie.

Deux points semblent acquis: 1. On possède sept textes où le président ou le secrétaire du conseil appartien-

nent à la tribu des Hyrnathioi, dont toutes les phratries sont connues. Dans cing d’entre eux, ils n’appartiennent pas à la même tribu.“

304

MARCEL PIERART

2. Le président et le secrétaire étaient en exercice pendant plus d’une séance, sans doute plus d’un mois.* Il est raisonnable de penser que, pour des raisons pratiques, le secrétaire

exerçait une fonction annuelle et que la présidence était accordée aux tribus par rotation (trimestrielle?).”’ 2.3.3 Les Quatre-vingts.“ Les Quatre-vingts sont chargés, avec le trésorier, de veiller a la gravure des stéles reproduisant le décret pour les Rhodiens, ce qui, comme le note P. Charneux, n’est pas une preuve de leurs compétences finan-

ciéres, mais du relief qu’on voulait donner aux honneurs octroyés aux Rho-

diens.*? Un document encore inédit datant du troisième quart du -IV* s. montre qu’ils ont des prérogatives judiciaires: ils sont charges d’arbitrer un dif-

férend entre le prêtre de Pallas et l’entrepreneur Nilostratos Sphyréis relatif à des honoraires. Is avaient — ce n’est évidemment pas une surprise — un président (ἀρήτευε) et — ce qui est plus étonnant — deux secrétaires (ypodée, au duel).” Les Quatre-vingts forment un college important. En ~420, dans le décret d’alliance entre Athènes, Argos, Elis et Mantinée, ils font préter serment au

Conseil et aux artynat. La comparaison des cités est interessante:”'

Athenes

ὀμνύντων

ἐξορκούντων

ἡ βουλὴ καὶ ai ἔνδημοι

οἱ πρυτάνεις

ἀρχαί

Argos

ἡ βουλὴ καὶ οἱ ὀγδοή-

οἱ ὀγδοήκοντα

κοντα καὶ οἱ (αἱ ἢ ἀρτῦναι Mantinée

οἱ δημιουργοὶ καὶ ἡ βουλὴ καὶ αἱ ἄλλαι ἀρχαί

οἱ θεωροὶ καὶ οἱ πολέμαρχοι

Elis

οἱ δημιουργοὶ καὶ οἱ τὰ τέλη ἔχοντες καὶ οἱ

οἱ δημιουργοὶ Kai οἱ θεσμοφύλακες

ἑξακόσιοι

Bien qu’une opinion trés repandue les présente comme une sorte d’Aréopage argien,”

rien ne prouve

que

ce conseil

soit une

survivance

d’institutions

antérieures a l’instauration de la démocratie. Le nombre de 80 est sürement a mettre en rapport avec les quatre tribus argiennes. On peut l’expliquer de deux manières.

Les

Quatre-vingts

pourraient

former

une

section

du

conseil,

composée par les membres d’une des quatre tribus, jouant un rôle analogue aux prytanes. Dans ce cas le conseil aurait compté 320 membres. Is pourraient aussi

former

un

corps

composé

de

20

représentants

par

tribu,

doté

de

prérogatives particulières, judiciaires et éventuellement financieres.”’ En faveur

ARGOS. UNE AUTRE DEMOCRATIE

305

de la deuxiéme hypothése, on peut invoquer le fait qu’ils sont mentionnés expressément aux côtés de la boulé à propos du serment de ~420, alors que les prytanes d’Athénes ne le sont pas, comme il est naturel, puisqu’ils font, eux, partie du conseil. En outre. ils ont leurs propres secrétaires au lieu du secrétaire du conseil, connu par les décrets.

2.3.4 Les Damiorgoi.** La notice de l’Erymologicum Magnum: δημιουργοὶ δὲ ἐκαλοῦντο παρά τε Apyeloic καὶ Θεσσαλοῖς oi περὶ τὰ τέλη, vaut certainement pour l’Argos archaïque. Sous le régime démocratique, dans l’état actuel des

connaissances, on ne trouve pas de daymorgoi dans les institutions politiques. Ds apparaissent cependant, comme on l’a vu, dans les institutions municipales. 2.3.5 Les Artynai.” Aucun document nouveau n’apporte de précisions sur les ἀρτῦναι qui ne sont connus que par le traité de ~420 reproduit par Thucydide.

Plutarque identifie les ἄρτυνοι d’Epidaure avec des βουλευταί. 7 M. Wörrle voit plutôt dans ceux d’Argos des magistrats supérieurs. Ch. Kritzas voudrait y reconnaître un collège comparable aux archontes, dont serait membre le

προβασιλεύς dont il est question ci-dessous.’ Il serait sans doute bon de rappeler que les manuscrits de Thucydide portent αἱ ἀρτῦναι, qui suppose un féminin ἀρτύνα au lieu du masculin ἀρτύνας qui est communément supposé. Αἱ ἀρτῦναι pourrait être le pendant rigoureux de αἱ ἔνδημοι ἀρχαί. Préteraient

serment le conseil, les Quatre-vingts et les magistrats. Les συναρτύοντες d’IG IV 554 - quelle que soit la cité en cause — pourraient être l’ensemble des magistrats en charge à l’époque où siégeait le conseil visé par le texte.

2.3.6 Le Basileus.” La liste des morts au combat SEG

24 361

a révélé

l'existence d’un προβασιλεύς. Pour Ch. Kritzas,” il s’agit du dernier avatar de l'institution: les sources littéraires et épigraphiques attestent l’existence d’un βασιλεύς a Argos au ~V* 8. Mais il ne s’agissait plus d’une magistrature héréditaire. C'était une sorte de magistrat éponyme annuel. Plus tard - sans doute dès avant le traité de “420, où il n'apparaît pas -- le βασιλεύς a fait place au

προβασιλεύς,

modeste

survivance

de

la

fonction

royale

d’autrefois,

maintenue pour des raisons cultuelles. L'hypothèse est séduisante. Il reste que le magistrat apparaît dans un contexte militaire. 2.3.7 Les stratéges.” Parmi les “officiers” morts au combat, dans la liste qu’on vient d'évoquer, figurent, en plus du προβασιλεύς, un stratège (otpataydc), un

devin (μάντις), un prêtre (ἰαρεύς). À Argos, les magistrats militaires supérieurs sont des stratèges, un collège bien attesté depuis l’époque classique -où ils sont cing - jusqu’à l’époque romaine. À l’époque hellénistique, il pos-

306

MARCEL PIERART

sedait des compétences militaires et politiques. Les polémarques, dont une liste de deserteurs du dernier quart du -IV* s. révèle l’existence, appartiennent sans

doute à un régime d@’exception. Comme

on !’a vu plus haut, les tribus jouaient un röle dans le recrutement

de l’armée argienne.°’ P. Charneux a montré que la cavalerie, mise sur pied au ~IV* s. était commandée par deux ἴλαρχοι par tribu, auxquels s’ajoutait un ἴλαρχος émaAéxtac.™ On pourrait peut-être expliquer de la même

manière le

nombre des stratèges de l’époque classique. A une date que Diodore de Sicile place en~420, mais qui était sûrement antérieure de beaucoup, les Argiens ont

créé un corps d’élite de 1000 hoplites entretenus aux frais de l’État: il y aurait eu un stratége par tribu, plus le stratège du régiment d'élite. Worrle™ préférait rapprocher le nombre des stratèges de celui des bataillons argiens présents à

la bataille de Mantinée.”’ 2.3.8 Autres

magistratures.

Les

inscriptions

ont

enrichi

notre

corpus

des

magistratures et apporté des mentions nouvelles de magistratures connues. Voici la liste des mentions nouvelles: ἀξρήτευε “être président”: liste récapitulative dans Piérart (1982)

127 et τι.

22. En outre: SEG 33 275 [&fperevov], SEG 41 284 (cf. ci-dessus, $ 2.2).

[β)νάδοοι (?): SEG 33 275; cf. Mitsos (1983) 249. γροφεύς, ypodée: 1. (des ὀγδοήκοντα) SEG 33 286 (cf. ci-dessus § 2.3.3); 2. (des polémarques) Inv. Ε 98+99 (Cf. SEG 37 280 et ci-dessous, § 3, p. 309). δυώδεκα: SEG 41 284 (cf. ci-dessus, ὃ 2.2).

δωτινατὴρ τᾶς ἱερᾶς καὶ δαμοσίας χώρας: SEG 41 282 (cf. ci-dessus, § 2.2). éniyvépov: SEG 30 380 (Tirynthe, épq. arch.). ξικαδεῖς (2): SEG 33 286 (face B); cf. Piérart (1982)

127 n. 22.

Fixarı: SEG 33 286 (face B) (cf. ci-dessus, n. 53). hodeAovöpor: SEG 41 284 (cf. ci-dessus, § 2.2).

ἱαροθῦται: SEG 41 284 (cf. ci-dessus, § 2.2). iapevc: 1. (fonction militaire?) SEG 24 361 (cf. ci-dessus, $ 2.3.7); 2. (prêtre

de Pallas) SEG 33 286 (face B). iapopvapovec: SEG 33 275 [cf. Mitsos (1983) 249] (Argos, -V* s.); SEG 30 38 (Tirynthe, épq. arch.). μάντις: SEG 24 361 (cf. ci-dessus, $ 2.3.7). ὀγδοήκοντα: SEG 33 286; Inv. E 66 (cf. ci-dessus $ 2.3.3). πλατιξοίναρχος: SEG 30 380 (Tirynthe, épq. arch.).

πολέμαρχοι: Inv. Ε 98+99 (Cf. SEG 37 280 et ci-dessous, § 3, p. 309). προβασιλεύς: SEG 24 361 (cf. ci-dessus, § 2.3.6). στραταγός: SEG 24 361 (cf. ci-dessus, § 2.3.7).

ARGOS. UNE AUTRE DEMOCRATIE

307

3. Le développement de la constitution démocratique‘ Pour

retracer

l’histoire

de

l’installation

et du

développement

du

régime

démocratique 4 Argos, l’historien ne dispose que d’une documentation encore tres lacunaire. L’impossibilité de dater la plupart des documents épigraphiques avec précision rend difficile leur combinaison avec les sources littéraires. Plusieurs points de vue sont à prendre en considération: l’unification de la plaine, les conditions de la participation des hommes libres au pouvoir et la perception que les Argiens ont de la nature de leur propre régime. En ~421, les Mantinéens se sont tournés vers Argos “qui vivait comme eux

en démocratie”.® Tous les indices dont nous disposons permettent de faire remonter l’instauration du régime démocratique au second quart du ~V‘s.,

peut-étre dans la decennie ~470-460. Apres le renvoi des troupes envoyées au secours des Spartiates embarrassés par la révolte des hilotes de Messénie qui suivit le tremblement de terre de ~464/3, Athènes rompit Palliance conclue

contre les Perses et s’allia avec Argos et la Thessalie.’” Le renversement des alliances fut sans doute favorisé par la réforme de la constitution argienne. La plus ancienne attestation du systéme des phatra: (?) est le document financier présenté par Ch. Kritzas, qu’il date de ~460 environ. Le systeme économique que fait entrevoir ce document suppose la reconquéte de Tirynthe et Mycenes, dont on exploite les terres confisquées. Elle eut lieu vers la même

époque.”

Mais il n’est pas possible de dire si la refonte des institutions a précédé ou suivi

les faits d’arme. De plus, le remplacement du phylétique par le “phatronyme” dans la nomenclature des Argiens ne fournit qu’un terminus ante quem. Les magistrats ont pu continuer pendant un certain temps à être désignés par leur phyletique. Je me suis efforcé de montrer ailleurs qu’a date ancienne, Argos avait connu

un régime comparable à celui de Sparte, avec, dans la plaine, des cités plus ou

moins autonomes, comparables par leur statut aux périèques de Sparte.”” Il existe une légère présomption en faveur de l’hypothèse que l’integration des hommes libres de la plaine argienne dans la population civique d’Argos n'était pas encore achevée vers ~475. Il est donc raisonnable de penser que la refonte radicale des structures civiques - la répartition de la population

libre de la

plaine d’Argos dans quatre tribus subdivisées elles-mêmes en 12 pharrai (?) remonte à la décennie “470-460. Cela ne veut pas dire que les citoyens d’Argos proprement dite n'avaient pas, déjà auparavant, l’impression de vivre dans un régime fondé sur l’égalité des droits. La mise en place des nouvelles structures a pu se faire par étapes. M. Wôrrie considérait JG IV 554 (vers ~475) comme

un document apparte-

308

MARCEL PIERART

nant déja au régime démocratique: le texte prévoit des sanctions trés graves contre les magistrats qui attaqueraient en reddition de comptes, condamneraient ou traineraient devant les tribunaux [é τὰ]ν βολὰν τὰν] dvd’ ‘Aptotova ὃ

τὸνις, συναρτύοντας [δ] ἄλλον τινὰ taptav.”? Les formulaires sont très différents de ceux qui seront en usage par la suite. L’existence de procedures de reddition des comptes des magistrats ne prouve pas en soi que le régime que l’inscription

permet d’entrevoir était démocratique. La proxénie SEG 13 239 (accordée par l’assemblée à Gnostas d’Oinous) ne nous éclaire pas non plus sur la nature exacte du régime en vigueur a Argos vers ~475.

On admet généralement qu’Argos connaissait une démocratie moderee. L’opinion repose en partie sur l’interpretation répandue du conseil des Quatrevingts dans lequel on voit une survivance des institutions aristocratiques. Celuici doit sans doute être mis en rapport avec le système des quatre tribus. La date de la création d’une quatrième tribu ne peut être précisée. Dès ~480-475, il y

avait 4 hiéromnémons à l’Héraion."* Comme on sait que plus tard, il y en aura un par tribu, le document fait penser qu’Argos n’a pas attendu les années 60 pour créer une quatrième tribu. Mais, dans l’état actuel des connaissances, les Quatre-vingts n’apparaissent pas avant ~420. Aristote nous apprend qu’Argos

a pratiqué l’ostracisme.” Il est donc hasardeux de vouloir situer son régime entre la démocratie extrême

que connaissaient les Athéniens et celle de ses

alliés de Mantinée, où le droit de vote était soumis à des restrictions.’® Les nouveaux documents financiers invitent à reconsidérer la réforme démo-

cratique sous un autre angle. La base de l’organisation de la cité et de son territoire était la tribu. L’ ἱερὰ καὶ δαμοσία χώρα répartie entre elles formait un réservoir de parcelles dont la mise en location ne fournissait pas uniquement des revenus considérables à la cité. Elle permettait aussi d’assurer la subsis-

tance des moins fortunés. On peut penser que les membres

du

entretenus

nourris

aux

frais

de

l’État

étaient

corps

d'élite sur

de

1000

les revenus

hoplites des

terres

publiques. Après la bataille de Mantinée, les Lacédémoniens en profitérent pour abattre le régime démocratique avec Pappui de 1000 Argiens recrutés au nom de l’alliance toute fraîche.” S’agissait-il des Mille? Thucydide ne le dit pas, mais dès le ~IVe s., la tradition, dans et hors d’Argos, le prétendra. An-

stote les appelle γνώριμοι.73 Vers-370, d’après Diodore de Sicile,” des citoyens fortunés avaient fomenté un coup d’État et fait appel à des mercenaires. Leur projet fut éventé. Excité par des démagogues, le peuple finit par étendre sa vengeance à toute la classe des possédants: plus de 1200 citoyens furent mis à mort. Même les démagogues qui avaient déclenché le processus ne furent pas épargnés. L'événement passa dans l’histoire sous le nom de skyralismos, à cause de la manière dont les

ARGOS. UNE AUTRE DEMOCRATIE

309

victimes furent mises à mort. Diodore insiste sur le fait que les accusés étaient trés riches. Plutöt qu’au commerce, ils devaient sans doute leur richesse a leurs biens fonciers. C’est à une couche sociale entière qu'on s’en est pris, avec une violence qui permet de supposer bien des rancoeurs ravalées. On peut imaginer que la constitution d’un fonds de terres publiques divisées en parcelles mises en location (mais selon quel système?) n'avait pas résolu tous les problèmes. Elle assura la stabilité relative du régime démocratique, mais n’empêcha pas la constitution d’une

aristocratie de possédants.

Il est même

possible que

l'écart entre les riches et les pauvres n'ait pas cessé de se creuser. L'impact éventuel de ces coups d’État sur les institutions demeure hors de notre

portée.

Les

conséquences

de

la récupération

de la Cynourie

et de

l’annexion, peu après, de Cléonai, ne sont sensibles que dans l'apparition d’un

nouvel élément dans la nomenclature des citoyens. La période qui suivit la bataille de Chéronée marque l’apogée de ia démocratie argienne. Presque toutes les inscriptions qui nous permettent d’en reconstituer le fonctionnement

datent du siècle qui suivit. Le régime démocratique connut encore deux éclipses. Nous ne savons rien des institutions du régime oligarchique d’Antipatros. À la mort du régent, Polyperchon mit fin aux oligarchies que son prédécesseur avait mises en place en ~322. En ~318, il écrivit à Argos et aux autres cités de Grèce une lettre dans laquelle il leur rendait la liberté.” Nous sommes peutêtre mieux renseignés sur le régime imposé par Cassandre. Une inscription inédite concerne sans doute la garnison que Cassandre laissa a Argos pendant cette période. Elle contenait des listes de déserteurs (αὐτόμο-

Loi ἐπὶ πολεμάρχων οἷς ἔγραφε ὁ δεῖνα) datées par le secrétaire du collège des polemarques.®' Les noms des déserteurs sont souvent accompagnés de leur ethnique.

Il y avait

Thiodamos

parmi

eux

des

esclaves

lyciens

et même

un

Argien,

Kolouris, ce qui prouve qu’il ne s’agissait pas de réfugiés. Qu'il

s’agisse de mercenaires n’est pas douteux. La mention de polémarques dans l'intitulé des listes ne manque pas d’intérét. A Argos, les magistrats militaires supérieurs sont des stratèges, un collège bien attesté depuis l'époque classique

jusqu’à

l’époque

romaine

et qui, à l’époque

hellénistique, possédera

des

compétences militaires et politiques. Le décret pour Alexandros de Sicyone™ contient la formule ἐπὶ γροφέος τᾶι βουλᾶι θΘιοδέκτα, τοῖς δὲ στραταγοῖς Aauéa et, 1. 10: τὸνς δὲ στραταγὸνς, οἷς γράφει Δαμέας. Que les stratéges aient dû faire place a des polémarques pendant un temps permet de supposer que Cassandre

a imposé a Argos un régime oligarchique qui ne cessa qu’avec sa domination, ἃ laquelle le Poliorcéte mit fin en 303. Une inscription attribue ἃ une épiphanie d’Apollon la mise en fuite de son frère Pleistarchos, qu’il avait laissé à la tête

de sa garnison.”

310

MARCEL PIERART

4. Conclusions

Bien qu’elles ne soient pas très nombreuses, les découvertes épigraphiques des trois dernières décennies ont renouvelé considérablement notre connaissance des institutions d’Argos.

Faute de pouvoir établir une chronologie sûre, les

circonstances dans lesquelles le régime démocratique fut instauré demeurent

mal connues. L’unification de la plaine permit la mise en place d’un régime démocratique, reposant sur un systéme de quatre tribus subdivisées chacune en douze sous-groupes portant presque sûrement le nom de phatrai. La base des ressources de l’État était une terre publique et sacrée (ἱερὰ καὶ δαμοσία χώρα). Le domaine public était réparti entre les tribus. Ce système, qui fonctionnait encore après ~146, permettait aussi aux plus démunis de trouver leur subsistance en exploitant les terres appartenant aux dieux et à la communauté civique. On peut penser qu’il explique la relative stabilité que connut le régime

démocratique qui, avant l’époque des Diadoques, ne compta que deux coups

d’État. Après la bataille de Chéronée, une nouvelle subdivision de la population apparaît,

qui portait peut-être

le nom

de pentekostys.

Sa fonction

est mal

établie: cette innovation pourrait être due à la nécessité, comme suite aux remaniements provoqués par l'annexion de la Cynourie, de procéder à de nouveaux recensements de la population.

Si notre connaissance des institutions et des procédures à progressé dans le détail, elles demeurent trop mal connues pour qu’on puisse situer la constitution argienne dans l’éventail des régimes démocratiques. République de paysans, elle fut peut-être moins modérée qu’on ne l’a parfois pensé: les coups

d’État dont l’histoire a conservé la trace révèlent des inégalités sociales importantes.

ARGOS. UNE AUTRE DEMOCRATIE

311

BIBLIOGRAPHIE Brandt, H. 1992. “IG IV 554: aus Argos oder Halieis?,” Chiron 22: 83-90. Charneux, P. 1984. “Phratries et kömai d’Argos,” BCH 108: 207-227. Charneux, P. 1990. “En relisant les decrets argiens,” BCH 114: 395-415. Charneux, P. 1991. “En relisant les décrets argiens II,” BCH 115: 297-323. Gauthier, P. 1987. “Bulletin épigraphique,” REG 100: 268-448. Gauthier, P. 1991. “Bulletin épigraphique,” REG 104: 434-555. Jameson, M.H. 1974. “A Treasury of Athena in the Argolid,” ®OPOR Tribute to B. Ὁ. Memi, edd. D.W. Bradeen/M. F. McGregor (New York) 67-75. Jones, N.F. 1987. Public Organization in Ancient Greece. A Documentary Study, American Philosophical Society Memoirs 176 (Philadelphia). Kritzas,

C.

1980.

“Κατάλογος

πεσόντων

ἀπὸ τοῦ

“Apyouc,” ZTHAH.

Mélanges Kontoleon

(Athènes) 497-510. Kritzas, C. 1992. “Aspects de la vie politique et économique d’Argos au Ve siécle avant J.C.,” Polydipsion Argos, ed. M. Piérart (BCH Suppl. 22) 231-240. Mitsos, M.Th. 1949. “Inscriptions of the Eastern Peloponnesus,” Hesperia 18: 73-77. Mitsos, M.Th. 1983. “Une inscription d’Argos,” BCH 107: 243-249. Piérart, M. 1981. “Notes sur trois noms de phratries argiennes,” BCH 105: 611-613. Piérart, M. 1982. “Argos, Cléonai et le Koinon des Arcadiens,” BCH 107: 119-138.

Piérart, M. 1983. “Phratries et kômai d’Argos,” BCH 107: 269-275. Piérart, M. 1985a. “Le tradizioni epiche e il loro rapporto con la questione dorica. Argo e l’Argolide,” Le origini dei Grect. Dort e mondo egeo, ed. D. Musti (Rome) 277-292.

Piérart, M. 1985b. “À propos des subdivisions de la population argienne,” BCH 109: 345356.

Piérart, M. 1987. “Note sur l'alliance entre Athènes et Argos,” MusHelv 44: 175-180. Piérart, M. 1992. “Deux notes sur l’histoire de Mycénes,” Serta Leodiensia secunda (Liège) 377-387.

Pierart, M. 1997. “L’attitude d’Argos à l’égard des autres cités d’Argolide,” CPCActs 4: 321-351. Ruzé, F. 1997. Deliberasion et pouvoir dans la cite grecque de Nestor à Socrate. Paris (Publications de la Sorbonne: Histoire ancienne et médiévale. 43). Vollgraff, W. 1909. “Inscriptions d’Argos,” BCH 33: 171-200. Vollgraff, W. 1916. “Novae inscriptiones Argivae,” Mnemosyne 44: 46-71; 219-238. Vollgraff, W. 1958. “Fouilles et sondages sur le flanc oriental de la Larissa à Argos,” BCH 82: 516-570. Wörrle, M. 1964. Untersuchungen zur Verfassungsgeschichte von Argos im 5. Jahrhundert vor

Christus. (Diss.] Erlangen-Nürnberg.

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312

NOTES Pour ne pas alourdir antérieure à ia thèse Les inscriptions sont Les inédits sont cités

la bibliographie, il ne sera renvoyé qu’exceptionnellement à la littérature de M. Wörrle. Le lecteur pourra aisément y retrouver les références utiles. citées par leur numéro dans les /G ou leur première mention dans le SEG. d’après l'inventaire épigraphique du Musée d’Argos.

Le système adopté par les Argiens n'a pu être élucidé que progressivement. Le mérite des premiers défrichements revient à Vollgraff (1909) 182-200; (1916) 53-61. Après la synthèse de Wörrle (1964) 11-31, la découverte de nouveaux documents (Kntzas [1980], [1992]) a permis de reprendre

l'examen

de la question:

Piérart ([1981},

[1983],

[1985a],

[1985b]);

Charneux

(1984). Jones (1987) 112-118; Gauthier (1987) 324-325, n° 257. es

SEG 25 362.

Et. Byz., s.v. Δυμᾶνες; Ephore (FGrHist 70) fr. 15.

sh

Cf. ci-dessous, § 3, p. 308. Paus. 2.19.1; 23.3; 26.2; 28.3-7. Cf. Piérart (1985a) 282-284; (1985b) 347 et n. 12. Dans 10 I 1149 (liste des Argiens morts à Tanagra vers ~458), la tribu des Hylleis occupe la première place. L'inscription Inv. E 86 est un catalogue de noms de citoyens et de météques (πεδάξοικοι) très fragmentaire (-V" a.). Les Δυμᾶνες sont cités en fin de liste. Cf. Vollgraff (1909) 189-190; (1916) 56-59; Wörrle (1964) 17 n. 32; Piérart (1981); (1985b) 347 n. 10; Kritzas (1980) 505-507; (1992) 236 [pour la tribu Hyrnathia]. Jones (1987) 113 est incomplet. -- On ne tient pas compte ici des variantes graphiques ou dialectales (par ex. -ηἰδαμεῖδαι; éec/eic), dues aux dates très différentes des documents dont proviennent les noms. 10.

Kritzas (1992) 235-236 (SEG 41 284). Vollgraff (1916) 58. Erym. Magn., s.v. ‘Eleric: (_) ᾿ὥὨνόμασται δὲ dnd τοῦ ἐν αὐτῇ ἕλους (_) οἱ γὰρ δῆμοι τῶν ᾿Αθηναίων, ἢ ἀπὸ τόπων, ἢ ἀπὸ τῶν παρακειμένων αὐτοῖς, ἢ ἀπὸ τῶν ἐν αὐτοῖς ψυτῶν. ἢ ἀπὸ τῶν ἐν αὐτοῖς χειροτεχνῶν, fi ἀπὸ τῶν οἰκησάντων ἀνδρῶν ἢ γυναικῶν. Cf. Arist. Ath

Pol. 21.5.

Cf. Kritzas (1992) 235-236. Les paiements sont faits 4 douze de ces groupes, qui avaient chacun un représentant dans un collège appelé οἱ δυώδεκα. Piérart (1997) 333-334. Cf. Wôrrlie (1964) 18 et n. 34; Jones (1987) 113; Ruzé (1997) 250, La division II pourrait être la pentekostys selon Charneux (1984) 210, une hypothèse qu'on ne peut tout a fait écarter: Piérart (1985b)

348.

SEG 11 316.43-45: Ha στάλα Eoota ἐπὶ Μελάντα βασιλέος: af péteve Δυκοτάδας Ηυλλεύς. νἀλιαίαι ἔδοξε τᾶι τὸν viapöv-

16.

+ d(Fpéteve) βολᾶς

᾿Αρχίστρατος Auxodppovidac:

Il est rare que la nomenclature d’un personnage comprenne tous les éléments qui peuvent y figurer: nom, patronyme, “phatronymique”, subdivision ΠΙ. On observe des variations dans le même décret et dans la manière dont le même personnage est cité: Piérart (1983) 271; (1985b)

17. 18. 19.

350-351, Cf. Wôrrie (1964) 27-28; Jones (1987) 114-115 (qui ignore Piérart (1985b)}. Piérart (1983) [contra: Charneux (1984)]; Piérart (1985b) 348; (1997) 338-340. IG TV 498 émane sans doute de Mycènes et non d’Argos. Cf. ci-dessous, n. 27.

20.

Vollgraff (1916) 54.

21.

Cf. ci-dessous, $ 2.2.

22. 23.

Piérart (1997) 338.

24. 25. 26.

Piérart (1983) 270 et add. p. 275 donne la liste des Argiens dont on connait le nom de la phatra (?) et celui de la pentekospys (?). Cf. supra, n. 10. IG XI.8

1259.

Le secrétaire de SEG

17 143 (milieu du -ἼΠ'’ 8.) est ‘Epnéac Αἰσχιάδας Ζάραξ. Zarax est un bourg

situé aux confins de la Cynourie. La pharra (?) est connue par SEG 24 361 (vers ~400). 21.

Piérart (1985b) 350-354.

ARGOS. UNE AUTRE DEMOCRATIE

313

IG IV 497, 498; SEG 3 312. — Mitsos (1949) 73-74 suppose que le décret [Ὁ TV 498 émane de la cité d’Argos. Charneux (1990) 398-399 le réartribue à juste titre à la köma de Mycènes. IG IV 493. Cf. IG TV 506, 7: a δὲ μὲ δαμιοίρ!γοῖ τις. La date de la nouvelle fondation de Mycénes n'est pas assurée: Piérart (1992) 383-385. IG W’ 621.

Kritzas (1992). Cf. Socrates Argius (FGrHist 310) fr. 6; SEG 41 282, 284, 288, 291.

En. Tact. 11.7-10. Cf. Wörrle (1964) 32-43; Charneux (1990) 397-407; Ruzé (1997) 245-266. SEG 30 380, n° 1-4, 1. 8-9: pv τὰ δαμόσια πυι κα δοκεῖ tür δάμοι ἀλιαίαν (...). Vollgraff (1916) 46-48; Wörrle (1964) 36.

SEG 25 362 pourrait avoir été voté dans une assemblée tenue le même mois. On y lit: ἀμβολίμωι ἐκ τὰς τελείας (3) au lieu de ἐκ τοῦ + nom du mois. Cf. Charneux (1990) 406 n. 76 (SEG 40 319). Chameux

(1990) 406; cf. Ruzé (1997) 247-248.

SEG 33 276 (Pallantion) et SEG 19 317 (Rhodes), tous deux de la fin du IV" s., οὐ la formule est ἀλιαίαι ἔδοξε τελείαι. ἀμβολίμωι ἐκ tod + nom du mois + date. Gauthier (1991), 484 n° 295. -- Ruzé (1997) 248 pense à une procédure en deux temps: on votait

les honneurs dans une premiére assemblée εἴ on les ratifiait dans une seconde.

SEG

11 316, 44-45: ἀλιαίαι ἐδοξε τᾶι τὸν iapdv. Dans /G IV? 1, 69+ (milieu du TV" 5.?),

Charneux (1990) 402 n. 50 propose de ponctuer: ἀλιαίαι ἔδοξε ἰἱαρῶν- xrÀ., ce qui ne s'impose pas. Ce texte, curieux à plus d'un titre, devrait être réérudié.

SEG 34 282.6-7. Ruzé (1997) 248, interprétant Én. Tact.

11.7-10.

Cf. Wörrle (1964) 44-56; Ruzé (1997) 270-275.

Ruzé (1997) 272-273, avec les textes, p. 273. Dans SEG 16 247, on trouve les mêmes président et secrétaire que dans les deux décrets de proxénie SEG 33 279, mais les textes furent votés à des dates différentes. Faute d'argument nouveau, je renonce à entrer dans la discussion sur le sens de “βωλᾶς σευτέρας

(= δευτέρας)" dans /G XII.3 1259, qui s'expliquerait bien par une rotation trimestrielle. Après

l’état de la question dressé par Wörrle (1964) 52-54, voir Charneux (1984) 216; Ruzé (1997) 273.

Cf. Wörrle (1964) 56-61; Ruzé (1997) 267-269. Charneux (1990) 413-414, contredisant Vollgraff (1958) 536. - Je crois cependant qu'on peut tirer du document financier inédit Inv. E 66 (époque hellénistique) la preuve qu'ils étaient aussi intéressés aux finances militaires. Je restitue, 1. 1: -- τῶν ᾿Αργείων ἐπὶ τῶν 'Oydorikofvra -SEG 33 286. La stèle SEG 1 67 a été dédicacée par deux προμάντιες et deux secrétaires (γροφέε, au duel).

Cf. Thuc. 5.47.9. Vollgraff (1958) 534-539. Cf. les mises au point de Wörrle (1964) 56-61 et Ruzé (1997) 267269. Des magistrats (Ὁ) appelés tol Fixat: apparaissent dans le fragment de document financier /IG TV 553 et, peut-être, dans le règlement religieux SEG

33 286 (face B), qui concerne la tribu des

Hylleis. Cf. Wörrle (1964) 61-70.

Cf. Wörrle (1964) 70-76. Plut. Quaest. Grasc. 1 (Moralia

291 DE).

Wörrle (1964) 70-71; Kritzas (1980) 504 et n. 37. Wörrle

(1964) 76-89,

Kritzas (1980)

502-505

- Les deux sources connues

dessus, n. 15). Wörrle (1964) 89-100. Kritzas (1980) 502, 505.

Cf. ci-dessous, § 3 p. 309.

sont Hdt.

7.149

et SEG

11

316

(cf. ci-

MARCEL PIERART

314 Cf. ci-dessus, § 2.2. Chameux (1991) 314-317.

Diod. 12.75.7 (ἐπέλεξαν τῶν πολιτῶν χιλίους τοὺς νεωτέρους καὶ μάλιστα τοῖς re σώμασιν ἰσχύοντας

καὶ ταῖς οὐσίαις); Thuc. 5.67.2; 72.3, 4 (οἱ χίλιοι λογάδες), - Sur leur rôle dans le coup d'État qui suivit la bataille de Mantinée, cf. ci-dessous, $ 3, p. 308.

Wörrle (1964) 29, 129-130. Thuc. 5.72.3: τοῖς πρεσβυτέροις καὶ πέντε λόχοις Wvopacpévor. On notera que certains manuscrits et une scholie ἃ ce passage parlent de πεντέλοχοι en un mot, ce qui rend le texte plus intelligible: aux troupes d’élites que Diodore qualifie de νεώτεροι s opposent les πρεσβύτεροι “appelés les Cinq bataillons”, Wörrle (1964) 101-132; Kritzas (1992); Piérart (1997) 332-334, 338-341; Ruzé (1997) 241-275. Thuc. 5.29.1: δημοκρατουμένην τε ὥσπερ καὶ αὐτοί, Cf. 5.31.6. Thuc.

1.102.

Piérart (1992) 377-382. Piérart (1997) 334-336. Wörrle (1964) 70-72. - Jameson (1974) a attribué le document a Haliai, mais H. Brandt (1992) a proposé de le rendre ἃ Argos. LSAG 169 n° 21. Arist. Pol. 1302618. Arist. Pol. 1318b25. Thue. 5.81.2. Arist. Pol. 1304625. Cf. Diod. 12.75.7 (ci-dessus, n. 65). Diod. 12.57.3-58.4. Diod. 17.57.1. Inv. Ε 98+99 (SEG 37 280) Cf. Piérart (1987) 177 et n. 20. SEG 25 362. SEG 25 366.

Democracy, Kimon, and the Evolution of Athenian Naval Tactics in the Fifth Century BC

BARRY S. STRAUSS

Few scholars have done as much as Mogens Herman Hansen to place Athenian democracy in its practical context. With a Tolstoyan eye for detail and an Aristotelian sense of organic unity, Hansen has made

a meeting of the As-

sembly or a mustering of a military expedition seem almost to take place before our eyes. Nor has he sacrificed a sense of balance to the search for verisimilitude. While underlining the similanties between ancient and modern democracy, Hansen also acknowledges the differences: among them, the breadth of the Athenian notion of politics. As he writes: We expect administration under a democracy to be in principle pragmatic and apolitical ... The Athenians saw things differently. For them, everything that had to do with the polis was “political”: they were quite capable of distinguishing between initiation, decision, and execution, but they did

not distinguish between politics and administration ...' Nor did the Athenians expect their military to be above politics; they recognized rather, as Hansen notes, that the way they fought a war might have major political consequences.” In recognition of his methodological mastery,

this paper examines the relationship between Athenian democratic politics and naval tactics at one moment in the mid-fifth century BC. Between

the

battle

of Salamis

and

the

Peloponnesian

War

Athenians

established their own way of fighting at sea. Athenian tactics placed a premium on speed and maneuverability. Athenian commanders aimed to evade the en-

emy’s ram, then to effect a quick turn and ram him in his stern or amidships, and then immediately to back away before the enemy could attack with archers

or a boarding party of marines. Alternately, they would have their crews row at the enemy and turn at just the proper angle to break his oars, having first shipped their own oars on the engaged side. In order to carry these tactics out, Athenian ships had to be light, and their crews had to include as few extraneous men as possible. Athenian warships were stripped down: the hulls were light, the decks were slotted in the middle and lacked bulwarks along the

316

BARRY 5. STRAUSS

sides. Athenian crews normally included only a small armed contingent - 10 marines and 4 archers - unlike some crews that contained up to 44 marines

and archers. Athenian naval personnel had to train constantly, because practice was necessary to perfect the requisite techniques. Javelin men, for example, had to be able to throw from a sitting position, because standing would cause the ship to roll and upset the oars. The maneuver of backing off after ramming

required coordination among helmsman, pulling-master, and rowers.’ What all this meant was that when it came to war at sea, Athenians had a competitive advantage at ramming and breaking oars; they were correspondingly at a disadvantage at boarding tactics. But given the naval technology of

the Classical period, especially of the fifth century, this was a good place to be. So long as the trireme was the ship of the line, Mediterranean warships were better suited as guided missiles rather than fighting platforms. Later, in the Hellenistic era, with the invention of heavier warships, boarding tactics could

compete with ramming tactics. For Classical Athenians, however, as long as they could avoid fighting in the narrows where the ramming tactic was difficult to deploy, they could dominate at sea. And if they had to fight in the narrows, even there they might find room to maneuver, so skilled were Athenian pilots.‘ Consider, for example, the battle of Kynossema

in the Hellespont in 411

BC. The Peloponnesians outnumbered the Athenians 86 ships to 76 and, having stolen a march on the enemy and sailed into the strategic Hellespont, they forced the Athenians to fight in narrow waters. There they could expect to take advantage of their superior marines. Yet in the end Athens prevailed.

As Diodorus

explains, although the Peloponnesians

were

superior in the

number of ships and in the arete (military virtue) of their eprbatai (marines), the Athenians beat them because of the superior techne (skill) of their kubernetai (helmsmen).

They managed

not only to avoid Peloponnesian ramming but

Peloponnesian attempts to grapple with Athenian ships and fight deck-to-deck; instead, the Athenians turned the tables and rammed the enemy.’ Diodorus’ discussion of the battle is not merely a specialized account but a political account. The word arete was as closely associated with the hoplite

phalanx as techne was with the fleet. Perikles for example, admires the techne (skill) of the Athenian navy (Thuc.

1.142.9) while fourth-century BC

ideo-

logues like Plato and Isokrates despise it: to zechne they prefer old-fashioned arete. To an elite, techne was a red flag, summoning up his anti-banausic pre-

judices.® Military tactics are rarely simply a matter of military efficiency; they reflect politics, society, and culture. The hoplite phalanx, for example, reflects the

agrarian economy and “middle-class” ideology of the early polis; the willingness of millions

of men

to fight in human-wave

tactics year after year on the

DEMOCRACY, KIMON, AND THE EVOLUTION...

317

Western Front during the First World War - and the willingness of their commanders to send them over the top - reflect the nature of European and

European-colonized societies in 1914. “This western front business,” says Fitzgerald’s Dick Diver in Tender ts the Night, “... took religion and years of plenty and tremendous sureties and the exact relation that existed between the classes”. Or, as the historian Tim Travers puts it, “Prewar British military

theories and the way that the war was conducted in 1914-18 by the BEF [British Expeditionary Force] were really expressions of social attitudes within

a technological framework”.’ Athens’ democracy would not tolerate a slaughterhouse at sea: no “Western front business” for the Athenian navy. So Athens evolved a way of war at sea

that was peculiarly democratic. First, it maximized the contribution of the oarsmen while

and of nautical experts such as the helmsman

minimizing

the

contribution

of the

shipboard

and pulling-master hoplites

or marines

(eptbataz). Athenian tactics, that is, maximized the state’s dependence on the poorest men who filled the rowers’ benches, not on the middle-class marines.

No wonder elite opinion bemoaned the political leverage of the so-called “rowers’ mob” (nautikos okhtos).* The second way in which Athenian naval tactics were democratic is that they minimized casualties. Regardless of its constitution, a Greek polis shrank from

“a reckless expenditure of human life” in war, as Gomme put it: its population was too small and too high a proportion of citizens were among the fighting men.

Even

the Athenian fleet, whose

crews

included metics, foreign mer-

cenaries, and slaves, always had a core of citizens. They were poor citizens, to be sure, but because Athens was a democracy, they could check any tendency on the part of the rich to regard the poor as expendable. And the choice of tactics had a great deal to do with who would live at sea and who would die.

Consider briefly the various ways in which a man might die on a trireme.” To begin with, there was ramming. The ram was as lethal as it was dramatic, but it proved deadlier to the victim’s offensive capability than to his men.

Ramming would make a ship founder and fill slowly with water but not sink; there was time for the crew to get out. The hole made by a ram was not big; Morrison & Coates estimate a hole of about 0.33m by 0.33m. At the point of a ram’s impact a few men might die or be injured. Elsewhere on the vessel, other men

might be injured by the force of the impact, depending

on the

speeds of the two ships involved, which, it is estimated, might be considerable. Incidentally, the force of ramming represented a threat to the attacker too; even a general was

at risk of being thrown

overboard

by the power

of the

impact, as the Spartan admiral Kallikratidas was at Arginousai when his ship rammed an Athenian and he was lost at sea.'°

318

BARRY 5. STRAUSS

Another tactic likewise could disable a ship but probably do only limited damage to its personnel: breaking the enemy’s oars. The result would cripple

the ship and might generate enough force to injure rowers through whiplash but perhaps not to kill them. Greater danger in a sea battle probably came

from other sources.'! The

first, and

biggest

threat was

enemy

marines

and

archers.

Most

of

Athens’ enemies were slower and less skilled at maneuvering their ships than Athens, so they were correspondingly eager to have the chance to send their marines and archers into action. The Korinthians and Korkyreans at the naval battle of Sybota in 433 BC, for example,

fought what amounted

to a land

battle at sea, according to Thucydides, because each fleet had many hoplites

on deck and because it was hard to separate after ramming because of the number

and press of ships (290 ships, the largest number of ships yet in a

Greek-versus-Greek battle). Spears, swords, arrows, stones, and, no doubt,

hands, might be called into service to kill the enemy, as at Syracuse in 413.1? The job of Athens’ skilled commanders was to avoid giving their opponents an opening; to protect themselves, they had to keep from fighting in a narrow space, which

forced a fleet to substitute deck-to-deck tactics for ramming.

Athenian commanders had also to make sure that their ships backed off quickly after ramming an enemy ship, otherwise, a hand-to-hand fight would develop. Should that happen, they could take what protection they could get from the various pararrymata or sidescreens (canvas, hair or leather) available to protect

the thranite or top level of oarsmen, who were visible targets on an outrigger whose side was normally kept open for ventilation. They had, moreover, to keep their own marines and archers ready to counter-attack or to attack the enemy should an Athenian ship be rammed. Should a ship be rammed, fleeing

crew members were fair game for the enemy’s hoplites and archers, who might attack them while they were clinging to the ship’s hull.'? Swimming represents the second source of danger. Persian crews could not always swim but Greeks usually did better. In Greece, the proverb had it, as rare as

a non-swimmer was, as

a man who did not know the alphabet, but not

every dog-paddler could match Odysseus’ strong strokes to the shore of Phaiakia: unlike Homer’s hero, he could not count on making it to safety over a great distance or against a strong current, wind or sharks. Sometimes enemy archers and javelin men hunted down and killed men after they had abandoned

ship and were swimming off to shore. The fourth source of danger consisted of hostile troops that might be waiting on the shore, ready to kill men as they landed,

a fate that befell Athenians

during the Peloponnesian

War

in, for

example, Sikyon, Syracuse, and Eretria.'* Finally, there were storms, which could blow up suddenly and wreck a fleet

DEMOCRACY,

KIMON, AND THE EVOLUTION...

319

or prevent the rescue of survivors of a battle. In a storm off Cape Athos in 411, for example, the Peloponnesians lost almost the entire crews of 50 ships: out of 10,000 men only 12 survived.’* Any doubt about Athenian unwillingness to accept unnecessary casualties was put to rest off the Arginousai Islands, between Lesbos and the Anatolian

coast in 406. Although Athens won a tremendous victory over the Peloponnesian fleet there, in which it deprived the enemy of 77 ships, the Peloponnesians had started with such unprecedentedly large forces that they still had over 90 ships left versus about 175 Athenian and allied ships (in both cases, combined totals of each side’s ships off the Arginousai Islands and at Mytilene). Athens’ temporary superiority could soon be undone via renewed

Persian aid to the enemy. Military necessity, therefore, argued for putting the bulk of Athenian resources into pursuit, which is what the generals did. Democratic military doctrine, however, demanded

that they give priority to

picking up the survivors and the corpses from the disabled Athenian triremes. But a storm blew up and the Athenian effort was too little and too late. The Athenian decision in the aftermath to try the generals en masse for dereliction of duty and

to execute

them

was a

stain on Athenian

justice.

It was not,

however, the action of a raving mob. Democracy expected its generals to be

ready to sacrifice military efficiency both to save the living and to recover the dead. What the generals at Arginousai did wrong was to put pursuit of the Spartan fleet ahead of getting their men out of harm’s way or retrieving their remains. Ducrey calls the trial of the generals “one of the most sinister excesses of radical democracy as experienced by Athens during the Peloponnesian War” but in fact it demonstrates the determination of the people to enforce

democratic military doctrine.’® To sum up: Athenians

died at sea in a variety of ways. Some

died by

ramming, but it was more common to die by a spear, sword, arrow, stone, or

hand; some drowned in storms; some drowned because they were poor swimmers; some were killed by enemy hoplites waiting on the shore. To minimize casualties and to maximize its technological superiority at sea, Athens’ commanders had to do whatever they could to prevent a sea battle from devolving into a land battle, that is, one decided by the clash of marines and archers.

Yet sometimes the undesirable was unavoidable. For example, when the Athenian fleet was fighting for its life in the Great Harbor at Syracuse in 413 or when Konon was trying desperately to keep a superior Peloponnesian fleet out of Mytilene harbor in 406, there was no choice but to fight via deck-todeck tactics. At the battle of Salamis in 480, likewise, Athenian tactical options

were limited."

320

BARRY 5. STRAUSS

Although Themistokles had sponsored the building of fast and deckless triremes, although Persian triremes were heavy enough to carry 40 marines each,

in practice Greek ships were heavier and slower than the enemy’s throughout the campaign of 480. Because the Greeks were outnumbered and because the enemy held the initiative, Greek commanders could not take their ships out of commission to be dried out and recaulked. Since they had the slower ships, on this occasion it was to the Athenians’ advantage to fight in a narrow space. And

so they did, in the straits of Salamis. They had other reasons to fight there too, among them, a favorable geography permitting the Greeks to employ a stratagem that whittled down the enemy’s advantage in ship numbers of roughly three-to-one, by tricking the Persians into dividing their fleet to close both ends of the straits. The stratagem also allowed them to send fresh crews out against

Persian rowers who had been at their oars all night.'* On one occasion, however, Athens chose to employ deck-to-deck tactics when perhaps it did not have to. This occasion bears close scrutiny, because it offers potentially great insight into the interrelationship of politics and naval tactics. The occasion was the battle of Eurymedon ca. 467 BC, at which the

leading general was Kimon, son of Miltiades.'? Kimon was a naval imperialist. When general, he pursued a milder policy toward the allies than his predecessors, but only to encourage their dependency on Athens: He allowed them to fulfill their tribute responsibility with money or empty ships rather than with rowers or hoplites. Meanwhile, large numbers of Athenians took turns manning the ships and going out on campaign, whereby Kimon rendered the allies unwarlike and the Athenians their masters. So Kimon, no less than Themistokles or Perikles, sent the Athenian people out to

sea.” Given the manpower

needs of the Athenian fleet, a naval imperialist ne-

cessarily had to play the populist, and so Kimon did. But he was a supple politician who knew how to ingratiate himself with the people while, at the same time, limiting their power. His preference was for the hoplites rather than the

rowers, for an alliance with Sparta rather than hegemonic rivalry, and for the tradition of Marathon and his father Miltiades rather than that of Salamis and his rival Themistokles. Nor was he the only influential Athenian in the two decades after Salamis who believed that, though it be a sea power, Athens’ greatest glory was its hoplites. Both the playwnght Aischylos and, arguably, the Areopagos Kimon

Council,

was

for example,

a champion

of the

shared

this opinion.

so-called

respectable

In the final analysis people

and

of the

wealthy.?' There

was sea power

and

there was

sea power.

Themistokles

had built

triremes that were fast and maneuverable. As general, Kimon altered the ships

DEMOCRACY, KIMON, AND THE EVOLUTION...

321

for the southwest Asian campaign of ca. 467 BC culminating in the Battle of the River Eurymedon. Plutarch reports that Kimon took: three hundred triremes, which had originally been built most excellently

by Themistokles for speed and easy turning, and he [Kimon] made them broader and added a passageway to their decks so that they might attack

the enemy having been made more effective fighters by [the addition of]

many hoplites.” It would appear that Kimon altered ships in order to take more hoplites on board. Athenian triremes at Salamis typically carried ten hoplites or marines (epıbatai) while Persian triremes typically carried forty. The additional deck space gave them a place to sit while the broader hull! helped carry the added

weight of more men. Unfortunately, there were countervailing disadvantages of a slower, more awkward vessel.” But why did Kimon want the ships to carry more hoplites? Morrison & Williams

suggested

thirty years ago that political considerations

may

have

played a role in his thinking: “Cimon’s political tendencies may have inclined him to a theory which relied more on the hoplite and less on the oarsman”. A

promising

suggestion,

because

military

efficiency

alone

will not

explain

Kimon’s actions.” Assuming his ships had been built originally in the pre-Salamis construction program of 483/482, they would have been about

15 years old ca. 467 and

perhaps no longer stiff enough for fast maneuvering. But at least some of the ships were newer, (according annually.

since Themistokles

to Diodorus) Another

that

called

consideration

had

sponsored

for the building

is that, because

a decree in 477/476 of 20

he was

new

triremes

planning

a grand

expedition that would involve land-fighting and sieges, Kimon expected to need many hoplites, hence he changed the ships to accommodate them. Presumably he made the change before leaving Athens, otherwise he would have had to recruit foreign hoplites to fight from Athenian ships. Yet Kimon might have fulfilled his troop requirements by converting some ships and leaving others fast and maneuverable for battle, just as the Athenians would

later go to Sicily in 415 with a combination of fast ships and troop-carriers. And ships in disrepair are not necessarily irreparable or, in a wealthy state like Athens,

irreplaceable.

In short, Kimon’s

naval reform

seems

to have gone

beyond the strict demands of military necessity.” As counter-revolution, however, it was a stroke of genius, or so it might have seemed. It was no retreat from sea power and its glory and wealth, Kimon could have told the people: the lavishness with which he dispensed the booty

322

BARRY 5. STRAUSS

of the great victory at Eurymedon made him as good as his word. It was merely

a change in tactics, by which naval battles would be decided by deck-to-deck tactics rather than ramming. In that case, though, victory would depend less on the actions of the motley crew of poor citizens, metics, foreigners, and

slaves who rowed the trireme than on the middle-class, citizens-only corps who fought as hoplites. It would have brought Athens in line with oligarchic Chios, who fought at Lade in 494 with 40 citizen eptbatai on each ship’s deck (andras ton aston logadas epibateuontas), and whose

ships were present on the Eury-

medon campaign.” Deck-to-deck tactics worked at Eurymedon; the presence of extra hoplites served brilliantly when success on the water was followed up by an attack on

land the same day. But they came at a high cost in casualties, both among epibatat and nautai, not to mention hoplite casualties in the hard land fighting at the Eurymedon. Few could have been happy at paying the price, especially

if the tactics persisted year after year, as well they might have while Kimon was in the ascendant. The sea battle at Eurymedon was followed almost immediately by another at Syedra, and the next years saw naval actions in the Chersonese and at Thasos. Perhaps the cost of Kimon’s new tactics is reflected in this statement in [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 26.1: Military service at that period rolls,

and

the

srrategoi

in

[late 460s BC]

charge

were

depended on the citizen

militarily

inexperienced

but

respected for the achievements of their ancestors; the result was that two

or three thousand of the men on any expedition were killed, and the better men from both the upper classes and the mass of the people [tous

epieikeis kai tou demou kat ton euporon] were decimated. The passage has been criticized as confused or implausible. Admittedly, it has problems, since Kimon was not “militarily inexperienced” nor was he “rather young and had just entered public life”, as the preceding sentence claims, since

he was born around 510 BC. The casualty numbers might be exaggerated. Yet the description of high casualties among both the ordinary people and the prosperous fits naval campaigns fought with deck-to-deck tactics. There would

have been a political price to pay.?” Could Kimon not have foreseen the reckoning? Perhaps, but he might have reasoned

that he could have ridden out the storm by rallying the hoplites

around the pursuit of glory. Besides, again and again in history, military tacticians have let political or cultural aims rather than pure efficiency dictate

their tactical agenda. In any case, even if the reconstruction proposed here is correct,

Kimon’s

new

naval tactics did not lead directly to his ostracism.

DEMOCRACY,

KIMON, AND THE EVOLUTION...

323

Indeed, he was the man of the hour after Eurymedon, and he successfully repulsed his opponents for another five years. Yet heavy casualties might have

contributed to a slow, steady wavering of support.” In short, the evidence suggests that Kimon took a germ of military reasoning and, for political purposes, let it grow into a major change in Athenian naval tactics in 467 BC. That change, in turn, exacted a political price in time. Even while winning his most

famous

victory, Kimon

may

have sown

seeds that

contributed to his eventual undoing. The larger point is that Athenian naval

tactics were never strictly a things that had to do with adopted a democratic way technical skills of poor men, tactics tended to avoid the

matter of military considerations: like most other the polis, they were political. Democratic Athens of war at sea. Athenian tactics emphasized the a group of both citizens and non-citizens. These old-fashioned, blood-and-guts virtues of heavily

armed infantry, but they also tended to avoid the heavier casualties that went

with them. As executed by Athens’ skilled pilots and rowers, democratic naval tactics proved immensely effective as well as relatively non-lethal. Kimon’s attempt to reverse the Themistoklean revolution at sea may have contributed to his political downfall.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Badian, E. 1993. From Plataea to Pondaea. Studies in the History and Historiography of the Pentecontaena (Baltimore). Busolt, G. 1893-1904. Griechische Geschichte bis zur Schlacht bei Chaeroneia (Hildesheim 1967).

Blamire, A. 1989. Plutarch, Life of Kimon, Classical Handbook 2, Bulletin Supplement 56, Institute of Classical Studies, University of London (London). Carena, C., Manfredini, M., & Piccirilli, L. 1990. Plutarco. Le Vite di Cimone e di Lucullo (Milan).

Casson, L. 1995. Ships and Seamanship in the Ancient World (Baltimore). Ducrey, P. 1985. Warfare in Ancient Greece, transl. by J. Lloyd (New York). Gomme, A.W., Andrewes, A., & Dover, K.J. 1945-1981. A Historical Commentary Thucydides 5 vols. (Oxford). Graham, A.J. 1992. “Thucydides 7.13.2 and the Crews of Athenian Triremes,” TAPA 257-270.

on 122:

Green, P. 1996. The Greco-Persian Wars (Berkeley). Grote, G. 1885. A History of Greece (New York). Hansen, M.H. 1991. Athentan Democracy in the Age of Demosthenes (Oxford).

Hanson, V. 1995. The Other Greeks. The Family Farm and the Agrarian Roots of Western Civiizanon (New York). Holladay, A.J. 1988. “Further Thoughts on Trireme Tactics,” GaR 35.3: 149-151.

324

BARRY 5. STRAUSS

Hornblower, S. 1991. A Commentary on Thucydides. Volume I: Books I-III (Oxford). Hunt, P. 1998. Slaves, Warfare, and Ideology in the Greek Historians (Cambridge). Jordan, B. 1975. The Athenian Navy in the Classical Period, University of California Publications, Classical Studies 13 (Berkeley). Kagan, D. 1987. The Fall of the Athenian Empire (Ithaca). Lazenby, J.F. 1987. “The Diekplous,” GaR 34.2: 169-178.

Lazenby, J.F. 1988. Review of J.S. Morrison & J.F. Coates,

The Athenian Trireme, in FHS

108: 250.

Meiggs, R. 1972. The Athentan Empire (Oxford). Mormigliano, A.D. 1960. “Sea-Power in Greek Thought,” Secondo Contriburo alla Storia degli Studu Classice, Edizioni de Storia e Letteratura (Rome) 57-67 = CR 58 (1944) 1-7. Moore, J.M. 1986. Aristotle and Xenophon on Democracy and Oligarchy, 2nd edn. (Berkeley). Morrison, [.5. 1991. “The Greek Ships at Salamis and the Diekplous,” JHS 111: 196-200. Morrison, J.S. & Coates, J.F. 1986. The Athenian Trireme. The History and Reconstruction of an Ancient Greek Warship (Cambridge). Morrison, J.S. & Coates, J.F. 1994. Greek and Roman Oared Warships, 399-31 B.C. (Oxford). Morrison, J.S. & Williams, R.T. 1968. Greek Oared Ships 900-322 B.C. (Cambridge). Pritchett, W.K. 1985. The Greek State at War. Part 4 (Berkeley). Rankov, B. 1994. “Reconstructing the Past. The Operation of the Trireme Reconstruction, Olympias, in the Light of the Historical Sources,” Mariner’s Mirror. The Journal of the Society for Nautical Research 80.2: 131-146. Rhodes, P.J. 1993. A Commentary on the Aristotelian Athenaion Politeia (Oxford). Shaw, T, (ed.). 1993. The Trireme Project. Operanonal Experience 1987-1990, Oxbow Monograph 31 (Oxford). Strauss, B.S. 1996. “The Athenian Trireme, School of Democracy,” in J. Ober & C. Hedrick (eds.), Demokrana. A Conversanon on Democracies, Ancient and Modern (Princeton) 313-326.

Strauss, B.S. (forthcoming). “Perspectives on the Death of Fifth-Cenrury Athenian Seamen,” in H. Van Wees (ed.), War and Society in Ancient Greece (London). Travers, T. 1987. The Killing Ground. The British Army, the Western Front and the Emergence of Modern Warfare 1900-1918 (London). Van Wees, H. 1995. “Politics and the Battlefield. Ideology in Greek Warfare,” in A. Powell (ed.}, The Greek World (London & New York) 153-178. Vidal-Naquet, P. 1986. “The Tradition of the Athenian Hoplite,” in The Black Hunter. Forms of Thought and Forms of Society in the Greek World, trans). by A. Szegedy-Maszak (Baltimore) 85-105. Whitehead, I. 1987. “The Periplous,” GaR 34.2: 178-185.

DEMOCRACY,

KIMON, AND THE EVOLUTION...

325

NOTES Hansen (1991) 7]. Hansen

(1991) 36-37, 115-116.

The ancient sources refer to, inter alia, the diekplour, periplous, and anastrophe, commonly translated respectively as “breakthrough”, “encirclement”, and “turn”, but those translations as well as the details of these various maneuvers are much debated among scholars. See Morrison & Coates (1986) index, s.vv. “breakthrough”, and “encirclement”; Morrison & Coates (1994) 359-369; Lazenby (1988) with reply by Morrison (1991); Lazenby (1987); Whitehead

(1987);

Holladay (1988). Ram and then quickly back away: Phormion at Thuc. 2.89.8; Polyb. 16.3.4; Morrison & Coates (1994) 361, 363. On breaking the enemy’s oars, see for example Konon at Mytilene in 406, Diod. 13.78.1, and in general, Holladay (1988) 149-150; Morrison & Coates (1994) 368-369; contra Lazenby (1987) 169. Ten marines: e.g. Thuc. 1.49.1-2, 50.1, 7.23.4; cf. Xen. Hell. 1.6.19, 2.1.22. Forty marines: Hdt. 6.15.1 [Chians at Lade], 7.184.1-2 [Persians at

Salamis). Javelin men: Thuc. 7.67.2; Morrison & Coates (1986) 161. Guided missiles rather than fighting platforms: Morrison & Coates (1986) 45. Hellenistic period: see Morrison & Coates (1994).

See the accounts in Thuc. 8.104-106 and Diod. 13.39-40 as well as the discussions by Kagan (1987) 218-225 and Morrison & Coates (1986) 80-83. For a parallel contrast to that of techne and arete, see Thuc. 1.49.3 on thusmoi and rhomei on the one hand and episremn on the other. Pl. Leg.

704D-707C;

Isoc.

De Pace

102-103;

Panarh.

115-116;

Anud.

64; Philippus

61.

See

Momigliano (1960) 61-63, 66; Gomme er af. (1945-1981) vol. 1: 266-267; Vidal-Naquet (1986)

93, 95-96.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender is the Night, New York: Scribner, 1962, 57 [Book 1, chapter 13]. Travers (1987) xxii. On hoplites see Hanson (1995); on First-World-War tactics see Travers (1987}.

The Jocus classicus for these points is [Xen.] Ah. pol. 1.2, cf. 1.12, 1.19-20, 2.1, 2.14-16, 2.19. In the fifth-century BC epibarai were normally hoplites, pace Hansen (1991) 45 and Dover (1970) 310: see Thuc. 6.43.1, 8.24.2, Arist. Pol. 1327b and Jordan (1975) 105-200, Hanson (1995) 369-373. On the naunkos okhlos see Thuc. 8.72.2, cf. 8.48.3, 8.86.5; Arist. Pol. 1304022, 1327b7-8, cf. 1291b20-24; cf. Isoc. 12.116; and Strauss (1996). Gomme εἰ al. (1945-1981) vol. 1: 17. Composition of Athenian crews: Casson (1995) 304-305; Morrison & Coates (1986) 107-120; Graham (1992); Van Wees (1995) 159-162; Hunt (1998)

83-101. On the commemoration of the dead at sea in Athens, see Strauss (forthcoming). Morrison & Coates (1994) 366, Shaw (1993). Kallikratidas: Xen. Hell. 1.6.33. See note 3. Sybota: Thuc.

1.49.1-3. Stones: Diod.

Fighting in a narrow space: Thuc.

13.10.5.

2.89.8 (Korinthian Gulf); Thuc.

7.36.4, Diod.

13.10.5

(Syracuse), Diod. 13.79.1-5 (Mytilene). Need to back off quickly after ramming: Diod. 13.10.5 on Syracuse; Dio Cass. 50.32.2, on Actium. Sidescreens: Aesch. Supp. 715; Xen. Hell. 1.6.19, 2.1.22; IG IP 1611, 1627, cf. 1604; Morrison & Coates (1986) 151; Morrison & Coates (1994) 256, 286. On need to have epibatar to carry out the breakthrough, see Hdt. 6.11.2-12.1 and

Morrison & Coates (1994) 360-361 - though perhaps these Ionian crews were not as good at extricating their rams as Athenian crews were. Attacks on crew members in flight: Sybota, Thuc. 1.50.1; Korinthian Gulf 429, Thuc. 2.90.5. 14.

Swimming: Hdt. 8.89.1; Pl. Leg. 689D; Homer Od. 5.344-457; Diod. 13.6.3. Hostile troops waiting on shore: Thuc. 4.101.4, 7.53.3, 8.95.4-6; Diod. 13.9.4-5, 13.13.4; cf. Thuc. 1.110.4,

3.90.2-3; [Dem.] 50.22. 15.

E.g., Hdt. 6.44; Xen. Hell. 1.7.4, cf. Diod.

16.

No doubt the home front was troubled by the the generals’ failure to recover the dead (Aoi

15.35.1. Storm off Cape Athos: Diod.

13.41.1-3.

teteleutekotes), as Diodorus states, but Xenophon is persuasive when he makes the issue the rescue

of “the shipwrecked” (hot nauagot) — that is, presumably, the living: Diod. 13.100.1, 101.2, 101.6; Xen. Hell. 1.7.4; see Pritchett (1985) 204-206, who thinks the issue at Arginousai was not picking

BARRY 5. STRAUSS

326

up corpses but saving survivors. Ducrey (1985) 190. On the tactics of the battle and the argument for military necessity, see Kagan (1987) 325-363; Morrison & Coates (1986) 87-93. For a defense of Athenian democracy see Grote (1885) vol. 8: 208-209. 17.

Great Harbor at Syracuse: see above, note 13; Mytilene in 406: Xen. 13.79.7

18.

Salamis: the main ancient sources are Hdt. 8.40-97; Aesch. Persae; Diod. 11.16-18; Plut. Them., Anst., Cim.; see Green (1996) 60-64, 146-148, 162-163; Morrison & Coates (1986) 55-58, both with reference to earlier scholarship. Dried out and recaulked: following the attractive suggestion of Morrison & Williams (1968)

1.6.16-17; Diod. 13.78.5-

134-135, which reconciles the apparent difference between Hat.

8.60.1 and Plat, Cim. 12.2, cf. Piccirilli in Carena, Manfredini, & Piccirilli (1990) 240. Morrison (1991)

196-197 responds convincingly to the objections of Lazenby (1988) 250.

19.

On the date of Eurymedon

20.

Plut. Cim. 11.1-2. Hornblower (1991)

see Badian (1993) 7-9, Homblower

(1991)

153.

153 notes that, in Athens, sea power was not the preserve

of the most democratic politicians. 21.

Athens’ greatest glory ... hoplites: (Arist.] Ark. Pol. 23.1-2; Aesch. Pers. 234-240; Van Wees (1995) 157-159. The respectable people (tous epieikesterous, [Arist.] Ach. Pol. 26.1) and the wealthy (ton euporon [Arist.] Ach. Pol. 28.1). On Kimon’s politics see Rhodes (1993) 289, 312, 324.

22.

Plut. Gon, 12.2. For historical commentary on this passage see Gomme et al. (1945-1981) vol. 1: 287-288; Blamire (1989) 139-140; Morrison & Williams (1968) 162-163; Morrison & Coates (1986) 153-156; Piccinlli in Carens, Manfredini, & Piccirilli (1990) 240. The figure of 300 tiremes, the better reading of the manuscript, probably includes 200 Athenian and

100 allied

ships. Yet a total of more than 200 ships is unlikely: see Blamire (1989) 139, Meiggs (1972) 452. 23.

Three hundred triremes: Diod.

11.60.3, Blamire (1989)

139. Alterations: Casson (1995) 87 n.

55, Morrison & Williams (1968) 161-163; Morrison& Coates (1986) 155. On the Themistoklean ships, see Thuc. 1.14.3; Meiggs-Lewis, GHI 23.23-26; Plut. Them. 14.1. Persian triremes: see above, n. 3. 24.

Morrison & Williams (1968) 163.

25.

About 15 years old: Morrison & Coates (1986) Thuc. 6.31.3; Morrison & Coates (1986) 152, Annual additional cwenry ships: Died. 11.43.3, Meiggs (1972) 76. Even if the change followed a 163), it could be put into effect in the Peiraieus

155. Grand expedition: Diod. 11.60.1-5. Sicily: 155. Deck-to-deck tactics: Casson (1995) 87. cf. Blamire (1989) 139. Before leaving Athens: Chian model (Morrison & Williams [1968] 161(pace Blamire [1989] 140).

26.

Hd. 6.15.1, Plut. Cim. 12.3, 13.6-8; Morrison & Williams (1968) 162-163.

21.

Transl. Moore (1986). Implausible: Rhodes (1993) 326-327. Hard land fighting at the Eurymedon: Plut. Cim. 13.2; Syedra, Chersonese, Thasos: Plut. Cim. 13.34, 14.1-2; Thuc. 1.100.2-101.3;

Diod.

11.70.1.

Gomme

εἰ al. (1945-1981)

vol.

1: 48, 287,

310, considers the

losses exaggerated and suggests chat they be attributed to land fighting on Thasos, at Tanagra, and in artempts to colonize near Eion, and to naval battles in the Egyptian expedition. Busolt (1893-1904) vol. 3: 143 opts for land fighting at Eurymedon. 28.

Man of the hour: see Badian (1993) 12-13.

Epigraphic Writing and the Democratic Restoration of 307 CHARLES W. HEDRICK

In recent years there has been a great deal of discussion about the nature of public writing in ancient Athens.' The Athenians erected more inscriptions by far than any other Greek state. Why did they do so? What were the functions

of publicly displayed texts in ancient Athens? How were they used? What were their political connotations? Traditionally scholars imagined that this “epigraphic habit” was a reflection of the ideology of the Athenian democracy. Inscriptions were erected to be informative: “The principal reason for the abundance of such documents was the democratic form of government of the Athenian people. The business of government was everybody’s business, and the publication of the many details of all sorts of transactions shows a general desire to let everybody know the acts of government.” At present I believe that

a consensus of scholars would agree that this proposition is problematic. How many Athenians could read an inscription? If transmission of information is all that is at issue, why inscribe the document in stone, which would outlast any relevance

the text may

have?

Did

all inscriptions

function

the same

way?

Increasingly scholars have argued that inscriptions are as much monuments as they are texts, and that they are erected less to be read than to be seen. The

political connotations of Athenian inscriptions have become controversial as well. Some scholars now believe that Athenian public writing had oppressive,

even tyrannical overtones.’ I agree that ancient

inscriptions were

used

in more

complex

ways

than

scholars have traditionally allowed, and that the modern conception of reading presumed

by most

scholars

is itself problematic

when

discussing how

the

ancients deciphered the content of epigraphical texts.‘ Nevertheless it seems

clear that Athenian inscriptions must have had democratic connotations: the Athenian state represented itself as a democracy; it sponsored the erection of public inscriptions; these inscriptions must consequently have been seen as emblems of a democratic political process — but this argument is based only on general considerations. There is very little clear evidence for the particular,

practical connections between the ideals of the Athenian democracy and the practice of public writing. In this paper I want to look at one specific case: the attitude toward public writing of the democracy between 307 and 301 BC. As

328

CHARLES

W. HEDRICK

has frequently been noted, substantially more inscriptions have been preserved

from this period of democratic ascendance than from the preceding period of the rule of Demetrios of Phaleron. Benjamin Meritt, for example, argued that

this change in the documentation reflected a difference of political attitude toward public writing.’ Lately Christian Habicht has noted that certain texts

of the period emphasize the sharing of public information.’ An additional point, however, should be made: as I will argue, the expression of this ideal in

this period seems to be traditional, harking back to formulae and practices of the mid-fourth century and earlier. In this way the democracy of 307-301 BC

associated itself with its traditions and distanced itself from the regime of Demetrios. At the end of the fourth century the Athenian state evidently regarded the display of public texts as a specifically democratic practice. Demetrios of Phaleron was installed as ruler in Athens by Kassandros in 317

BC.’ Nominally the state remained a democracy: Demetrios is said to have remarked that he had not destroyed the democracy but corrected it (Strabo 9.1.20). As a practical matter he controlled the affairs of the state, supported by a Makedonian garrison on Mounychia. He remained in power for a decade, until 307 BC. The traditional forms of the democratic government were largely preserved in this period. Demetrios however created a board of nomophylakes, which had the power to interfere with the activities of magistrates, Boule, or Assembly when they felt that the established laws were being disregarded. A

property qualification of 1,000 drachmas was applied to the citizen body. While came

this qualification was only half that imposed by the oligarchy which to power after 322 BC, it was still steep enough

to severely limit the

number of Athenians who could participate in activities of the state.

Few public inscriptions dating to the decade of Demetrios’ rule have survived. Only two decrees of the Assembly are certainly known to be preserved from the period. No ephebic inscriptions or lists of Councillors have been recovered.” The paucity of epigraphical documentation in these years may be the

consequence of a general administrative furtiveness and hostility to the sharing of public information. Other explanations are possible. For example, the absence of public inscriptions might be seen as an extension of Demetrios’ sump-

tuary laws, or as a reflection of his regime’s frugality. It is also possible that the number of decrees passed by the Assembly and Boule declined while Demetnos exercised oversight of them: in other words, he may not have been hostile to

the use of public writing in principle, but because few decrees were enacted, few inscriptions were erected. Or again, it is conceivable that many inscriptions were erected but they have not survived: after Demetrios was expelled, the restored democracy destroyed representations of him (D. Laert. 5.79f). Inscrip-

tions dating to the period of his rule may have been pulled down as well.’

EPIGRAPHIC WRITING

329

Be that as it may, in 307 BC Demetrios Poliorketes liberated Athens and

reinstated the democracy. Although the Athenians may now have enjoyed a great

deal

of autonomy

in the

administration

of their local

affairs,

they

ultimately answered to Demetrios Poliorketes.'’ The policies of the restored democracy were conceived in opposition to those of the overthrown regime. Among its first acts, the restored order destroyed the statues of Demetrios and outlawed the leading participants in his regime. The limitations on democracy introduced

by

Demetrios,

including

the

nomophylakes

and

the

property

qualification, were abolished. Activity in the Boule and Assembly increased; the citizen rolls swelled, as the ephebic lists of the period show.'' At the same time

a board of nomothetai was appointed to revise the law code. The process re-

quired several years; the entire code was displayed in 304/3 BC.'? These activities were not only a reaction against the policies of Demetrios;

they were also a restoration of the ways of the Classical democracy. The events of 307 BC, and particularly the revision of the law code, should be examined in the light of earlier democratic restorations. Following the usurpation of the 400

in 411

BC

the Athenians

distanced themselves

from the oligarchs by

honoring the assassins of one of the leaders of the usurpation. They then

proceeded to revise their laws, appointing syngrapheis and anagrapheis.'” They looked to the earlier practices of the democracy for precedents: some old texts which were thought to exemplify the “ancestral

form of government”,

the

patrios politeia, were re-inscribed at this time. In 403 BC, after the expulsion of the Thirty, the Athenians declared a general amnesty — though the chief agents

of the Thirty were specifically excluded from it. The Thirty had destroyed certain

inscriptions

passed

by

the

earlier democracy;

the Athenians

now

reversed this policy. In at least one case (Meiggs-Lewis, GHI/ no. 94), a decree which had been passed by the democracy before the usurpation, and which the Thirty had either disregarded or destroyed, was now inscribed and erected. The Athenians now also created a board of nomothetai, charging them to revise

and publish the code of laws, and to supervise it in the future." After 411 and 403 BC the restored democracy revised the code of laws. The

example of the immediately preceding regime was characterized as tyrannical or oligarchic and condemned. Earlier democratic precedents were invoked and affirmed. On the restoration of the democracy in 307 BC the same pattern was

followed. A board was assigned to revise the code of laws. The regime of Demetrios was repudiated. Earlier democratic examples and traditions were invoked. The pattern itselfis traditional. By behaving in this way the Athenians in 307 BC

were associating themselves with a democratic past, which was

implicitly contrasted with the tyranny of Demetrios. The restored democratic regime seems to have made it a priority to preserve

330

CHARLES W. HEDRICK

and display public documents. In the years between 307 and 301 BC the Assembly was extremely active. About one hundred decrees have been

preserved from this period.'* The contrast with the documentation for the years of Demetrios’ domination of the state could not be more striking. Does this difference reflect a change in political attitudes about the display of public information? And if so, can we generalize and say that Greek tyrannies are as a rule repressive and democracies were by contrast open? I doubt that these questions can be answered. It is clear, however, that after 307 BC the Athenians were concerned to make information public, and that they associated this attitude with democracy. Furthermore, they saw the policy as traditional, and

typical of earlier democratic practice. These overtones imply a criticism of Demetrios of Phaleron: in their attitude toward the sharing of public information the Athenians are assimilating themselves to the old democratic order and distinguishing themselves from the tyranny. In 307/6 BC one of the most prominent politicians of the restored democracy, Stratokles of Diomeia,'® brought a motion to honor the orator Lykourgos, who had died almost twenty years before ([Plut.] Mor. 851F-852E

with JG II? 457).'” The inscription is to be erected “so that all may know (εἰδῶσι) that the Athenians value those who choose to participate in public life justly on behalf of democracy and freedom most highly, and gives them after death thanks which will be always remembered”

(χάριτας ἀειμνήστους, [Plut.]

Mor. 852D). A statue of Lykourgos is to be erected in the Agora, and his eldest descendant is to have the privilege of dining in the Prytaneion for all time. His decrees are to be valid; the secretary is to have them inscribed on marble stelai and erected on the Akropolis next to the dedications ([Plut.] Mor. 852E). The

proviso that an inscription be erected “so that all may know that the Athenian demos knows how to return a favor” is common

- I find approximately

120

occurrences in Attic epigraphy, almost exclusively in honorific inscriptions." The formula alludes more to the monumental function of the inscnption than to its documentary function. The inscription honoring Lykourgos is not set up so the public can read of the good deeds of the honorand, but as evidence of

the gratitude of the Athenians, to be seen by other potential benefactors. It is to be set up more as a memonial for future generations (ἀείμνηστος) than as a

text to be read. The collection and erection of the decrees of Lykourgos is also motivated more by the desire to honor the orator than by any need of making

their contents known to the public: again, the reason for setting up these “stelai on the Akropolis, next to the dedications” should be understood

as monu-

mental rather than as documentary. In the text of the honorific decree itself, however, Lykourgos and his family are honored for their devotion to freedom and democracy. Lykourgos is

EPIGRAPHIC WRITING

331

represented as a hero and servant of the state as a whole, and as a defender of

Athenian interests both at home and abroad. The decree ends by emphasizing the extent to which

he was

responsible

to the citizen body

and

made

in-

formation about his public service accessible to all: “he frequently underwent

the euthyna (the exit audit for magistrates) for his policies and management while the city was free and democratically administered” ((dpüg εὐθύνας πολλάκις [τῶν τε πεπολιτευμένων Kal τῶν] διωικημέν[ων Ev ἐλευθέραι καὶ δημοκρατουμένηι typ πόλει, [6 I? 457.21-23; for the restorations cf. [Plut.] Mor. 852D). The timing of the decree suggests an implicit comparison with the behavior of

the tyrant Demetrios of Phaleron. Servants of a “free and democratic city” must make

information about their behavior available to all citizens, as Ly-

kourgos had done and as politicians of the new regime presumably will do.

The procedure of the eurhyna involved a combination of written and oral communication." The role of word-of-mouth communication in the dissemination of information in the Athenian democracy is well known and undisputed.

For example,

the most famous statement of Athenians’

openness

with regard to public information, Thucydides’ Funeral Oration, refers to the sharing of information

orally (Thuc.

2.40).

The

procedure

of the eurhyna

illustrates the principle that in a democracy politicians are accountable to the citizen body, and that information about the public business is to be made

available on demand. Here in 307 BC this sharing of information is clearly coupled with democratic ideals, founded on the precedent of the democracy of the 430s and 420s BC.

In other documents of the restored democracy writing is unambiguously represented

as the vehicle

for the

sharing

of political

information.

In the

archonship of Pherekles, 304/3 BC, a certain Euchares son of Euarchos of the deme of Konthyle,

a member of the board of nomothetes, was honored by the

Boule for “taking care of the inscription of the laws, so that all the laws passed in the archonship

of Pherekles

[i.e. 304/3

BC]

be set out for anyone

who

wishes to see, and no one be ignorant of the city’s laws” ([ἐπεμελήθη δὲ καὶ τῆς [ἀναγ)ρ[αφῆς τῶν ν]όμων ὅπως ἂν ἐκτε[θῶσι] πάϊίντες οἱ νί(ενχομοιμο]θετημένοι Ent] Φερεκλέους]

ἄρχοντος σκοπεῖν [τῶ]ι PovdAolpévwh καὶ μηδὲ εἷς ἀγν[ο)εῖν τοὺς τῆς

[πόβλεως νόμους) (16 II? 487.4-10).”° I do not wish to open the question of how, precisely, such a written text could have been read and understood by the

many illiterate Athenian citizens. Nevertheless it is clear chat the text of the laws

is not

displayed

for

commemorative

reasons,

but

to

communicate

information. As is specified, the laws are set out so that anyone who wishes can see them and so that “no one should be ignorant of the laws of the city”. The formula σκοπεῖν τῷ βουλομένῳ is rare and interesting. I find eight examples of it, all of which refer to writing displayed on impermanent media,

332

CHARLES W. HEDRICK

i.e. wooden boards.”’ One occurrence is in an inscription from Oropos, dating to a period of the sanctuary’s independence, either at the end of the fifth cen-

tury or the first part of the fourth.?? The formula is found in only four Athenian inscriptions, mostly financial documents dating to the third quarter of the fifth

century BC. One example, /G I’ 60.30-31, occurs in the context of the collection of the tribute. In another case, JG 1 133.11, the formula is used in con-

nection with a tax collected from ships’ passengers and paid to the Dioskouroi; in a third it is used in the context of the Athenian Coinage decree, IG I’ 1453,

G 16.7 In the last instance, JG I? 140.7-8, the context is too fragmentary to be intelligible. Several approximations of the phrase are also attested.” The formula is also found in two of the orators. In both it refers to the dis-

play of the laws, as does the inscription of 304/3 BC. Andokides, in his speech De mysterus (delivered in 399 BC) quotes from the decree of Teisamenos authorizing the revision of the law code in the wake of the expulsions of the

Thirty. Such laws as seemed necessary were first to be written up and “set out on boards before the eponymous heroes for anyone who desires to see” (ἐν σανίσιν ἐκτιθέντων πρὸς τοὺς ἐπωνύμους σκοπεῖν τῷ βουλομένῳ, Andoc.

1.83).

The laws would then undergo review by the Council and the nomothetai. “Laws being approved are to be written up on the wall where they were written up before for anyone who desires to see” (τοὺς δὲ κυρουμένους τῶν νόμων ἀναγράdeiv εἰς τὸν τοῖχον, ἵνα περ πρότερον ἀνεγράφησαν, σκοπεῖν τῷ βουλομένῳ, Andoc. 1.84). In his speech Contra Timocratem, which was probably delivered in 353, Demosthenes

describes

the

same

procedure

for

authorizing

laws:

before

proposing a law, it is first of all required that he “write it out and set it out before the eponymous heroes for anyone who desires to see” (ἐκθεῖναι πρόσθεν τῶν ἐπωνύμων γράψαντα σκοπεῖν τῷ βουλομένῳ, Dem. 24.18).?° In 307/6 BC

the Athenians

determined

to strengthen the city walls, and

passed a decree, /G II? 463, detailing the necessary work to be undertaken.”’ At lines 30-31 it is stated that the inscription is to be erected “so that it may be possible for any Athenian who desires to know and to examine the matters [1.6.Ψ finances] pertaining to the walls,” [ὅπως ἂν ἦι τῶι βου)λομίένωι

‘Ani viciwv

εἰδέναι καὶ ἐκξετ)άζίει]ν τίὰ] περὶ τὰ τίείχη]. 5 The verb ἐξετάζειν is found in Athenian inscriptions of this period and later -- so it need not have any ar-

chaizing implications. It commonly occurs in inventories, and refers to the verification of the account against some object listed.?” So the inscription is

made available so that citizens can compare it with the work done to the city walls. The expression ὅπως ἂν ἦι τῶι βουλομένωι ᾿Αθηναίων εἰδέναι, on the other hand, is almost unparalleled. The only other example of the formula is found in an inscription recording the regulations for the sanctuary of Kodros, Neleus and Basile (/G I’ 84.26), dating to 418/7 BC. The inscription is said to

EPIGRAPHIC WRITING

333

be erected ὅπος ἂν ἔτ εἰδέναι tölıJßoAouevor. The motivation alleged for erecting

the inscription of 307 BC finds its only parallel in a text of the late fifth century BC. Again public disclosure is associated with the traditional practices of the democracy of an earlier period. To sum up: after 307 BC the restored democracy emphasized the “publication” of official information to its citizens. The increased display of texts may have been a reaction to the contemporary perception of the repressive policies of Demetrios of Phaleron. At this time the practice was evidently associated with the tradition of the democracy

of the late fifth and fourth

centuries BC. The democratic character of “free access to information” is emphasized in the policies and activities of the regime and in the formulae used in some of its documents. The attitude toward documents expressed in this period may or may not be typical of the earlier democracy; it does at least show how the Athenians of the period understood their democratic tradition.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Aleshire, S.B. 1989. The Athenian Asklepieion. The People, their Dedications, and the Inventories (Amsterdam). Anastassiou, A. & Irmer, D. (eds). 1977. Kleinere anische Redner, Wege der Forschung (Darmstadt). Chambers, M. εἰ al. 1990. “Athens’ Alliance with Egesta in the Year of Antiphon,” ZPE 83: 38-63. Ferguson, W.S.

1911. Hellemsnc Athens. An Historical Essay (London).

Green, P. 1990. Alexander to Acnum. The Historical Evolution of the Hellenistic Age (Berkeley). Habicht, C. 1979. Untersuchungen zur polinschen Geschichte Athens im 3. Jahrhundert v. Chr. (Munich). Habicht, C. 1997. Athens from Alexander to Antony (Cambridge, Mass.). Hansen, M.H. 1987. The Athenian Assembly in the Age of Demosthenes (Oxford). Harris, W.V. 1989. Ancient Literacy (Cambridge, Mass.). Hedrick, C.W., Jr. 1994. “Writing, Reading and Democracy,” in Osborne & Homblower (1994) 157-174.

Hedrick, C.W., Jr. 1999. “Democracy and the Athenian Epigraphical Habit,” Hesperia 68: 387-439, Hedrick, C.W., Jr. Forthcoming. “For Anyone Who Wishes to See,” to appear in Anctent World. Kallet-Marx, L. 1994. “Money Talks: Rhetor, Demos, and the Resources of the Athenian Empire,” in Osbome

& Homblower

(1994) 227-251.

Maier, F.G. 1959-1961. Griechische Mauerbauinschriften (Heidelberg). Mattingly, H. 1992. “Epigraphy and the Athenian Empire,” Historia 41: 129-138. Meritt, B.D. 1940. Epigraphica Anica (Cambridge, Mass.).

334

CHARLES W. HEDRICK

Osborne, R. & Homblower, 5. (eds.). 1994. Ritual, Finance, Politics. Athenian Democranc Accounts Presented to David Lewis (Oxford). Ostwald, M. 1986. From Popular Sovereignty to the Sovereignty of Law. Law, Society, and Politics in Fifth-Century Athens (Berkeley). Pelekidis, C. 1962. Histoire de l’éphébie attique des origines à 31 avant Fésus-Christ (Paris). Rhodes, P.J. 1981. A Commentary on the Anstotelian Athenaion Politeia (Oxford). Rhodes, P.J. 1991. “The Athenian Code of Laws, 410-399 B.C.,” JHS 91: 87-100. Robertson, N. 1990. “The Laws of Athens, 410-399 B.C. The Evidence for Review and Publication,” JHS 90: 43-75.

Schindel, U. 1967. “Untersuchungen zur Biographie des Redners Lysias,” RAM 110: 3252. Steiner, D. 1994. The Tyrant’s Wrie: Myths and Images of Writing in Ancient Greece (Princeton, N.J.). Svenbro, J. 1993. Phrasikleia. An Anthropology of Reading in Ancient Greece (Ithaca, N.Y.). Thomas, R. 1989. Oral Tradinon and Wninen Record in Classical Athens (Cambridge). Tracy, S.V. 1995. Athenian Democracy in Transition. Amic Letter Cuuers of 340-290 B.C.

(Berkeley). Tréheux, J. 1956. “L’inventaire des clérouques d’Imbros,” BCH

80: 462-479.

Whitley, J. 1997. “Cretan Laws and Cretan Literacy,” AJA 101: 635-661. Wilhelm, A. 1909. Beiträge zur griechischen Inschrifienkunde, mit einem Anhange über die öffentliche Aufzeichnung von Urkunden (Vienna). Wilhelm, A. 1941. “Zur Übergabe der ἱερὰ χρήματα der Athena,” Wh 33: 29-34. Winter, F. 1959. “Ikria and Katastegma in the Walls of Athens,” Phoentx 13: 161-200.

NOTES 1.

The bibliography is large and continues to accumulate at a rapid pace: I will not attempt to review it here. The watershed book was Thomas

(1989). Another important contribution was Harris

wn

(1989). For further bibliography see Hedrick (1994), Whitley (1997), and Hedrick (1999).

Menitt (1940) 89.

See Harris (1989) 79-80; Steiner (1994).

pus

For an attempt to deal with the practice of reading in ancient Athens see Svenbro

(1993)

17.

Meritt (1940) 93. Cf. Habicht (1997) 71. Habicht (1997) 70. For the regime of Demetrios of Phaleron see Ferguson (1911) 38-94; Habicht (1997) 53-66; Tracy (1995) 36-51.

8.

The decrees are 16 I? 450 & 453. A few more may date to the period. For the epigraphical documentation for this period sec Ferguson (1911) 61-62; Tracy (1995) 36 n. 2, 39-40; Habicht (1997) 71.

9.

Cf. Green (1990) 48 and n. 69.

10.

For the period, Ferguson (1911) 95-135 remains the fullest account. See now also Habicht (1997) 67-81. The difference berween Ferguson's general outlook on Hellenistic Athens and Habicht’s can perhaps best be seen in their respective treatments of the relation between the demos and Demetrios in this period.

11.

Pélékidis (1962)

12.

Here I am following Ferguson (1911) 103-107. Habicht (1997) 70, 73-74 is noncomittal about the length of ame taken for the revision.

155-157,

160-164.

EPIGRAPHIC WRITING

13.

335

For a summary see che commentary to Meiggs-Lewis, GH/ no. 86. For more extended comments see Ostwald

(1986) 395-420. For more recent discussion and bibliography see Rhodes (1991).

14.

See Ostwald (1986) 497-524,

15. 16. 17.

Habicht (1997) 71-72. On Stratokles see Habicht (1997) 71-73. A rough copy of the text of the decree is preserved with some other documents at the end of the text of the X oras., which is preserved under the name of Plutarch in the Moralia. Generally on the X oraz, see Schindel (1967), reprinted in Anastassiou (1977) 264-287. On the inscription see

Sy.’ 326 and Habicht (1997) 68 and n. 2. 18.

See Hedrick (1999) esp. 413-416.

19,

The most important ancient evidence for the euthynai is the Ath. Pol. 48. For a general account

20.

On the inscription see Syl.’ 336; for the political background of the honorand, see Habicht (1979) 23.

21.

Oddly this famous formula has never been examined in detail. For the time being see Wilhelm

see Hansen (1987) 222-224; for more detail see e.g. Rhodes (1981) 561-564.

(1909) 285; for another statement of Wilhelm’s discussion with some updated citations see Robertson (1990) 47. I expect to publish a more exhaustive essay soon, tentatively entitled “For

Anyone Who Wishes to See” (= Hedrick [forthcoming]). Sokolowski, LSCG no. 69 = Syil.’ 1004.40-43,

22. 23.

The Coinage Decree has traditionally been dated to 450-446. I would date it somewhat later: see

24.

the commentary on Meiggs-Lewis, GHI no. 45; Chambers er al. (1990); Mattingly (1992). Approximations of the phrase are found in: an inscription dating to the beginning of the second century BC

25. 26.

from

Halasarna

on Kos = Sokolowski, LSCG

no.

173 = Sy?

1023.65-72;

in an

inscription of Ephesos dating to about 297/6 ({.Ephesos 4.A.22-23); and in a text from Klazomenai dating to about 200-150 (SEG 29 1130bis.3). On the decree of Teisamenos, see Ostwald (1986) 511-524; Robertson (1990); Rhodes (1991). For Demosthenes’ contribution, both here and elsewhere, to our understanding of the procedures for passing laws, see Ostwald (1986) 520-522.

27,

On this inscription see Maier (1959-1961) I, no. 11 and Winter (1959), Habicht (1997) 70, gives

28.

a succinct account of the historical background. H. Lattermann, who edited the text for [G, prints the restoration ὅπως Ent in line 30. The only parallel for this formula, however, is JG I’ 84.26 (quoted and discussed below), which reads ὅπος

ἂν ἔτ εἰδέναι: hence the restoration presented here. 29.

For this verb and its uses see Wilhelm (1941) 29-30; Tréheux (1956) 467-474; Aleshire (1989) 105. For a recent discussion of financial accountability in Athens see Kallet-Marx (1994).

Mogens Hansen

and the Labelling of Athenian Democracy PAUL C. MILLETT

This offering had its origin in an informal response to a draft of the first edition

of Mogens Hansen’s The Athentan Democracy in the Age of Demosthenes (1991). As the author may recall, enthusiasm for what he wrote was tempered only by disagreement with one of the themes running through the book. “I do not share the belief”, wrote Hansen (x), “that the fourth-century democracy was almost identical with the so-called ‘radical’ democracy of 462-411 and 411404. On the contrary, I hold that the democracy restored in 403 was different from the fifth-century democracy in many respects, and that the democracy underwent many more changes and reforms during the years 403-322 than is usually assumed.” The implied distinction between a ‘radical’ fifth-century and

a ‘moderate’ fourth-century democracy, anticipated in Hansen’s earlier papers

([1978], [1979a], [1979b), [1989a]), also appears in his synoptic study of The Athenian Assembly ([1987] 94): “The Athenians of 403 wanted to replace the radical democracy of the fifth century with a more moderate form of democracy.”

Like Hansen, I would see the politeia of fourth-century Athens as significantly different from that of the fifth, but I do not share his identification of

crucial dissimilarities. Part of the explanation may stem from differing historical perspectives, with particular reference to Hansen’s regard for the “Importance of Institutions in an Analysis of Athenian Democracy” ([1989b]; contrast Ober

[1989b]

323-326).

But, at a deeper level, disagreement with

Hansen’s presentation calls into question the appropriateness of time-honoured labels for Athens’ democracy, including ‘radical’, ‘moderate’, and even ‘liberal’

and ‘conservative’. My aim in this paper is to develop this possibly irresolvable dispute over Hansen’s conception of change over time in democracy in Athens

into

a wider-ranging

Athenian democracy.”

discussion

of how

we

conceive,

package

and

label

338

PAUL C. MILLETT

Il Hansen builds into his survey of ‘Sources for the Institutions of the Demo-

cracy’ (20-22) a summary of earlier studies. Almost without exception, the period associated with Perikles forms their focus. Older treatments tended to give a diachronic treatment of events down to the enigmatic changes of 462, broadening out into a synchronic description of the democracy in the so-called ‘Periclean Age’, followed by a narrative account of the oligarchic episodes of 411 and 404, and concluded by a (typically) brief coda on the restored democracy of 403-322. A more recent approach has been to break off the narrative

in 462, treating as a quarry for a more analytical account the whole 140 years down to the destruction of the democracy. This has the apparent advantage of affixing to the indispensable testimony of the Attic Orators the cacher of Periclean Athens. Hansen objects (and rightly) that both approaches are based on the false assumptions noted above: how the régime established in 403 was

more-or-less identical with what had gone before; and how no changes of

substance occurred in the eighty-odd years down to 322.’ The arguments brought forward in support of ‘radical tradition’, as inaugurated by Ephialtes differences of detail and emphasis across Hansen’s straightforward listing of changes (numbered for

a break in 403/2 with the (126), are repeated with writings. What follows is a convenience) that might

plausibly be identified as having a moderating effect on the fourth-century

democracy.* Top of the list are apparent reallocations of power away from the more democratic parts of the politeia. Most prominent is (i) the creation in 403/2 of a distinction between nomoi and psephismata, whereby responsibility for passing the former was transferred from the ekklesia to new boards of nomothetat (161177). (11) Shortly before the middle of the fourth century, the ekklesia lost its remaining jurisdiction in political trials (the process of eisangelia), which were henceforth financial

to be resources

judged

in the

to each

courts

board

(158-159).

of magistrates

(iii) The was

allocation

determined

by

of the

merismos which, as a nomos, stood outside the competence of the ekklesia (152). (iv) The processes of dokimasia and euthynai were revised so as to increase the part played by the courts (218-220, 222-224). (ν) At some time in the earlier

fourth century, presidency of the boule was transferred from the prytanets to a new

board

of proedroi (140-141).

(vi) The

authority of the Council

of the

Areopagos was increased in several ways, apparently at the expense of the eRklesia (290-295). (a) In the 340s, the new procedure of apophasis was introduced: a form of public prosecution, in which the Areopagos had an investigative role and could take the initiative. (b) There is evidence in the later

MOGENS

HANSEN AND THE LABELLING OF ATHENIAN

DEMOCRACY

339

fourth century for the Areopagos intervening in the election by the ekklesia of certain representatives. (c) After Chaironeia, a decree was apparently passed, on the initiative of Demosthenes, granting the Areopagos the power to judge and sentence any law-breaker, without right of appeal. (vii) The fourth century saw the creation of powerful new financial magistracies

(Treasurers of the

Stratiotic Fund, Theoric Fund, and ‘In charge of Management’

[epi tes dioi-

keseos]) which, by being elective and for a period of four years, broke

the

principle of annual selection by lot (270). As a record of adaptation and adjustment, the catalogue is cumulatively impressive; the more so as our information across its eighty years is unsystematic

and can hardly be complete. But, as evidence for fourth-century ‘moderation’, almost every item in the list is open to challenge. An alternative reading approaches the material more from a socio-political than an institutional perspective (the distinction is drawn by Ober

[1989a];

[1989b] 95-98). The aim is to assess the impact of change on democratic control in terms of probable rather than potential effect. The distinction is clear in contrasting responses to nomothesia, which might superficially seem to have far-reaching (and negative) implications for popular power. As Hansen bluntly (and rhetorically) put the question: “Did the Athenian ekklesia legislate

after 404/32” (Hansen [1979a]). But the practical effect of nomothesia on the decision-making process 15 open to question. Epigraphical evidence from the

fourth century suggests that the new procedure was used only sparingly. Compared with several hundred decrees, passed in the ‘normal’ way by the ekklesia, there have been identified only nine nomot, the work of nomothesia

(167). In any event, the process of nomothesia itself could hardly have been more democratic. The ekklesia had to agree by decree to the setting up of a board of nomothetai, who were chosen by lot from the pool of jurors and paid

for their services (168-169).° The basis of Hansen’s counter-response is his argument that the structure of nomothesia had its own, inbuilt sociological implications (Hansen

[1990a]

351-352). Given the likely age-structure of Athens’ population, selection of nomothetai from the pool of jurors (aged thirty and over) as opposed to the citizen body as a whole was likely to exclude approximately one third of male

citizens. “Thus every third Athenian had restricted rights: he was old enough to attend the assembly, but not old enough to sit on a jury or to serve on the

council” (351). The point is well made. Hansen then turns to the ‘age-consciousness’ of the ancient Greeks, which he associates with attitudes towards

seniority in other societies, “where it is never questioned that wisdom and rationality grow in people with the advance of age. The administration of justice is usually left to the elders, and to belong to one age group or another

340

PAUL C. MILLETT

is not a trivial matter, but important to one’s position in society ... From this perspective the transfer of powers from the ekklesia ... to the juries ... is no longer just an institutional refinement, but a sociologically important reform”

(cf. [1991] 89-90). The danger here is of losing sight of the context of the debate, which is not about wisdom or rationality, but whether nomothesia marked a moderate compromise of radical democracy. Hansen implies that the greater wisdom of maturity entails ‘moderation’, which may (or may not) be true of our own society,

but is emphatically not proven for ancient Athens. To take an obvious though admittedly not straightforward example: in Aristophanes’ Wasps, it is the father, not the son, who appears as the fanatical supporter of the ‘radical’

Kleon.® The second, third and fourth items in Hansen’s catalogue may be dealt with

more briefly. It can be argued in each case that the actual impact of institutional change on the democratic nature of the politeza would, in all probability, have been minimal. According to the fundamental study of eisangelia by Hansen ([1975]

51),

even before the mid-fourth-century change, the ekklesia had never taken a prominent role in the hearing of eisangeliai, which were routinely referred to the

courts. In canvassing possible reasons for the change, Hansen suggests that financial considerations may have been mixed in with political motives (Hansen [1975]

55): a court-hearing could have cost as little as 250 drachmas as op-

posed to one talent for a full assembly. Economic implications of other institutional changes are discussed below. On the question of merismos and the limited competence of the ekklesia, Hansen himselfis quick to point out possible

loopholes (Hansen [1991] 153): the ekklesia could always vote an etsphora or override the merismos with a decree, seeking retrospective ratification via a

board of nomothetai. The bearing on moderate democracy of the revision of dokimasia and euthynat to involve the courts more closely is not immediately obvious. In any case, Hansen himself remarks on the apparent infrequency with which the procedures gave rise to actual prosecutions (200, 223-224). With re-

ference to the nine proedroi and their presidency of the boule, Hansen points to possible associations of their title, which “had only previously been used in 411, and so hardly had a ‘radical-democratic’ ring” (301; cf. 141). But this loose linking with moderation

hardly

squares

with the likely effect of the

change.

As Rhodes suggests ([1980] 321), “Probably the institution was inspired by a ‘democratic’ desire to share out the work of the boule a little more fairly, and to make

it impossible to plan to take advantage

prejudices” (cf. Hansen’s comments,

140-141).

of a particular chairman’s

MOGENS HANSEN AND THE LABELLING OF ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY

Deserving Areopagos,

closer where

attention

are

adjustments

in

the

competence

there is prima facie a case to answer:

341

of the

(a) apophasis,

(b)

interfering in elections, and (c) exercising apparently sweeping judicial powers. But cumulative impressions may mislead, with each piece of evidence individually open to question. Apophasıs, for example, appears only as a minor

addition to the powers of the Areopagos, with the ekklesia maintaining a central role in the process. The term apophasis actually refers to the report which the

Areopagos forwarded to the ekklesia on completion of its preliminary investigation of suspected treason (Wallace [1989] 113; cf. Hansen [1991] 292). It was then for the ekklesia to determine whether to pass the case on to a popular court. Only rarely was the procedure initiated by the Areopagos: more commonly by a decree of the ekklesia (Hansen [1991] 292; Wallace [1989] 113). Aimost all the other indications of increased authority for the Areopagos seem to refer to the immediate aftermath of Chaironeia, under circumstances that were hardly normal:

influence in the election of Phokion

as strategos,

execution of those abandoning Athens to its apparent fate, and the decree of Demosthenes granting wide judicial powers.’ A parallel may be drawn with the emergency, post-Chaironeia proposal by Hypereides that slaves in the silver

mines should be freed and armed to defend the city (fr. B18 in Burtt [1954]). More tentatively, Aristogeiton’s prosecution of Hypereides for making an allegedly illegal proposal might be compared with the anu-Areopagitic tone of the farnous law of 336 of Eukrates against tyranny: a possible reaction against

non-democratic expressions of power.® Hypereides apparently justified his extraordinary proposal to free slaves en masse on the grounds

of expediency:

“in order that free men

should

not

experience slavery”. A similar sort of argument may clarify the fourth-century Athenians’ rejection of the lot in their decision to select major financial officials by vote. Democratic principles may be compromised at the margin, but only

by way of preserving and strengthening the central democratic process. Here is another occasion on which institutional and socio-economic perspectives are potentially at odds. What Hansen (1991)

160 interprets (with the support of

Aristotle) as ἃ moderation of democracy, could be read as an internal adjustment designed to guarantee the material resources essential for maintaining popular and independent involvement in democratic institutions. As I have argued elsewhere (Millett [1989a]), adequate resources in the form of public pay and eventually theoric payments were crucial, not only in making possible

widespread participation, but also in avoiding control of the poor through patronage. As Aristotle put it (Pol.

1295b19), those who are excessively in need

are likely to be submissive. As a powerful symbol of the material commitment of the

fourth-century

Athenians

to

preserving

and

even

extending

their

342

PAUL C. MILLETT

democracy, there is the introduction and progressive increase of payment for attending the assembly (150). That is a solidly democratic innovation which demonstrates the centrality of the ekklesia within the democratic polireia and, as Hansen seems to acknowledge (320), counter-balances at least some of the

evidence offered in support of ‘moderation’. There was, of course, a price to be paid. Without the financia! cushion of the

fifth-century

empire,

the Athenians

Aristotle

in

the

assembly

pay facing ‘fully formed

Politics

(1320a18)

had

to make

recounts

the

democracies’

every

drachma

difficulties

in

count.

providing

(hat teleutaiai demokratiai)

which do not have access to external revenues (prosodos). Part of the way forward in Athens was the selection of acknowledged financial experts by election rather than by luck of the draw.’ To

that extent, the democratic

principle of selecting magistrates by lot was compromised. Similarly, the longstanding election of strategoi might be read as a compromise of democracy in order to ensure its overall chance of survival. Democratic politics, no less than warfare, was (and remains) an option of difficulties.!° I do not anticipate that Mogens Hansen will be persuaded by the arguments

offered above into abandoning his distinction between a radical fifth- and a more moderate fourth-century democracy. Where, as often in Greek history, the verdict ultimately depends on an assessment of the perceived balance of

probabilities, responses are necessarily subjective.'' In this case, the underlying determinants are likely to be preconceptions about the business of the historian and, more particularly, the relationship between Athens in the fifth and fourth centuries — the subject of my final section. In what follows, I want to move the argument a stage further and consider the helpfulness or otherwise of ‘radical’

and ‘moderate’ as labels for Athenian democracy.

Ill A promising point of departure is what seems to be an unresolved tension in Hansen’s summing-up of ‘The Character of Athenian Democracy’ (296-320). Towards the beginning of the book (10-11; cf. 68-69), ‘radical’ and ‘moderate’

are associated with the four variants of democratic polizeiai set out in Anstotle’s Politics, “declining from the ancient moderate peasant democracy (type D) to

the radical city democracy of his own day (type IV).” On the strength of the changes detailed in the previous section, Hansen seems set to label Athens’ democracy in the fourth century as ‘moderate’. But that is not the view of Aristotle himself, who plainly judged the politeia of the Athens he knew to be

at the extreme end of the democratic spectrum. As Hansen noted in his earlier

MOGENS HANSEN AND THE LABELLING OF ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY

343

treatment of the Athenian assembly, “A few scattered remarks leave no doubt

that Aristotle classifies contemporary Athens as a radical democracy” (Hansen [1987]

10); and, in his later study, the criteria are conveniently set out as a

catalogue (301-303). Hansen attempts to resolve the contradiction by turning from the views of

philosophers to those of the ‘ordinary Athenian’ (303), to whom he envisages asking the question, “Who is kyrios in Athens?’. For the later fifth century, the

ultimate answer, at least as supplied by Aristophanes (Knights v. 42), is the demos in the ekklesia; by contrast, for the fourth century, it is the jurors who are

kyrioi panton. But this formulation surely founders on the discontinuity of the ancient testimony, with no fourth-century equivalent of Aristophanes. All the passages cited by Hansen as evidence for the separate identity and supremacy

of the courts are from speeches by the Attic Orators to be delivered in the courts themselves. Hardly surprising that they should tell with advantages the

independence and power of popular juries.'? In his concluding remarks on the character of the fourth-century democracy, Hansen seeks to clarify his position over the radical/moderate divide (303-304):

If the Athenians did not succeed in creating something radically different from ‘radical’ democracy, maybe that is not what they were trying to do.

They simply wanted to modify their constinition and place some controls on the unlimited power of the people. The tendency of the reforms is clear: the Athenians wanted to obviate a return to the political crises and military catastrophes of the Peloponnesian War. In spite of the philosophers it can hardly be denied that the Athenians in the fourth century

were weary of extreme ‘radical’ principles and were trying to set out in their place if not a ‘moderate’ then a ‘modified’ democracy. From what has gone before, my opinion will be clear how it can indeed be

denied that the fourth-century Athenians were reacting against their conception of fifth-century democracy. It is, in any case, problematic to argue back to motives from perceived effects. But more significant is the shifting terminology of the passage from ‘radical’ to ‘radically different’, from ‘moderate’ to ‘modified’. In the latter case at least, the effect is to neutralise or depoliticise

the concept of ‘moderation’. The problem seems to originate with Hansen’s choice of ‘radical’ and ‘moderate’ as equivalents of categories in the Polincs, which are not even approximately those chosen by Aristotle himself. As Ste. Croix reminded us ([1981] 76), “when many of us would prefer to speak of ‘radical democracy’ or ‘full democracy’, Aristotle uses the expressions eschate demokratia or teleuteia

344

PAUL C. MILLETT

demokratia.” But the difficulty goes deeper in that, as labels, ‘radical’ and ‘moderate’ have ideological lives of their own with a range of meanings. That is presumably

why

Hansen

feels

able

to

define

‘radical

democracy’

in

Aristotelian terms, and then challenge its application to Athens in the fourth century

by

‘moderate’

Aristotle. (and

The

range

‘conservative’)

of responses in the context

prompted

by

of Athenian

‘radical’

and

politics invites

further exploration. Use of ‘radical’ and, to a lesser extent, ‘moderate’ and

‘conservative’

as

labels for Athenian democracy and democrats is sanctioned by long tradition.

What is different about Hansen’s presentation, making it susceptible to scrutiny, is the honest attempt to anchor modern terms to ancient concepts. Other recent historians of ancient democracy defy analysis by remaining silent about the intended meanings of their terminology. Hignett prefaces his long and climactic chapter on ‘The Radical Democracy’ with a brief citation of the Pohtics (Hignett

[1952]

214-251);

but no definition is offered of the ‘Mo-

derates’ and ‘Conservatives’ who appear in the pages that follow (252-284).

Ehrenberg with his ‘radical policy’ of Ephialtes (Ehrenberg [1973] 211, cf. 223), and Forrest’s ‘Radical answers’ to ‘Conservative arguments’ (Forrest {1966]

212-213)

give no further explanation.

Fine

(1983)

wavers between

“radical democracy” (388), “‘radical democracy’” and “‘radical’ democracy”

(432): again, without clarification. What

is disconcerting is that, with the

possible exception of Hignett, these treatments (and the list could easily be

extended) are intended for the ‘general reader’, perhaps making his or her first acquaintance with Greek history. The supposition seems to be that ‘everyone knows’ what ‘radical’ and associated terms signify, when, in reality, everyone

knows something different.’ At stake here is one of the irresolvable paradoxes of writing history: the need to approach

what is alien through what

is familiar.

Metaphor

remains

an

inevitable part of the process of enhancing our appreciation of the past. With reference to Greek politics, the imagery

of ‘radicalism’

and

‘conservatism’

might appear promising, deriving ultimately from the world of nature and

therefore having some loose affinity with the Aristotelian conception of the polis as natural and organic. But, in this case, primary meanings are swamped by subsequent

associations

with

the

world

of modern

(and

not-so-modern)

politics. The familiarity of the words, making them superficially attractive as

metaphors, turns out to be a trap. This fallacy of familiarity was pointed out long ago by Bentham.

“By habit whenever a man sees

a NAME,

he is led to

figure to himself a corresponding object, of the reality of which the NAME accepted by him, ... in the character of

endiess is the confusion.”

is

a CERTIFICATE. From this delusion,

MOGENS

HANSEN

AND THE LABELLING OF ATHENIAN

DEMOCRACY

345

The quotation is taken (with Bentham’s own emphasis) from a hard-hitting paper by Conal Condren, in which he questions the identification of “Radicals,

Conservatives and Moderates in Early Modern Political Thought” (1989).!* After listing some

of the more

significant

‘-isms’

in the modern

vocabulary (feudalism, socialism, liberalism, humanism, Condren

points out how

political

individualism etc.),

they constitute not only an addition to available

terminology, but also a changed political perspective. “We have reified them

all and grown into the habit of seeing them as constitutive of the political domain itself. It is little wonder that when we speak and write as historians we take them similarly for granted, forgetting their historically contingent nature, projecting them onto an alien past, a past that is in part alien precisely because it lacked their presence” (Condren [1989] 528-529). Beginning with a brief analysis of ‘left’, ‘right’ and ‘centre’, Condren demonstrates how the merging of locational and ideological content leads to inappropriate

and

misleading

labelling

(Milton

as ‘left-wing’;

the

Anglican

Church as midway between the extremes of ‘left’ and ‘right’ as represented by Geneva and Rome). This prefaces a longer illustration of how, “More than any other sets of political terms invented in the nineteenth century, we take radical, moderate and conservative for granted” (Condren [1989] 530). The examples that follow are intended to show how

“we have so unreflectively projected

these putative certificates onto the evidence that we have reified them, giving them an almost physical dimension and an inexorably distorting function in representing the past.” The survey concludes:

“we seem to forget that as a

meaningful term in the immediate context of conservative and moderate, radi-

cal is a modern invention. Does it make us see more clearly what was always there; does it mythologize by fallacy of translation?” (Condren [1989] 532). So persuasively

does

Condren

challenge

the

conventional

categories

of early

modern political theory that his questions might be thought to answer them-

selves.'” I have quoted at length from Condren’s paper as his arguments have obvious implications for the labelling of Athenian democracy. If terms like ‘radical’ and

‘conservative’ are inappropriate for the early modern world, which eventually gave rise to what we recognise as radicalism and conservatism, the warrant for their application to the ancient world is far weaker and scope for misunderstan-

ding correspondingly greater. Let us consider briefly some of their associations in modern politics.

In terms of chronology, ‘radical’ seems to have priority over ‘moderate’ and ‘conservative’. In 1820, we find Byron, then abroad, writing to a correspondent

in England: “Upon reform you have long known my opinion - but radical is a new word since my time — it was not in the political vocabulary in 1816 -- when

346

PAUL C. MILLETT

I left England - and I don’t know what it means -- is it uprooting?”. Byron was evidently more out of touch with the English political scene than he realised: examples of ‘radical’ in its political sense and ‘radical reform’ are found from the 1780s onwards.’® His association of ‘radical’ with ‘uprooting’ was understandable but erroneous. The implied image is rather one of getting to the root of a problem: concentrating on what seems fundamental to the exclusion of all else. According to Egon

Bittner in his article on ‘Radicalism’ in the Inter-

national Encyclopaedia of the Social Sciences (IESS), “It implies a concentration of focus of relevance on a particular principle, at the expense of the traditionally sanctioned regard for the complexities of context. The element thus abstracted becomes the salient core on which inference and action are based.”

Bittner goes on to explain how radicalism can become comprehensive by assimilating all aspects of life to the initial, underlying principle. This process of systematic reduction and extension may be based

on perceived logic or

reason, or some romantic impulse.

The broad formulation of radicalism lends itself to a multiplicity of political systems. The main headings in Bittner’s article (which is hardly exhaustive) in-

clude Jacobinism, Populism, Philosophical Radicalism, German Idealism and Anarchy. Nor is there any need for radicalism to be restricted to left-wing movements. In Britain for much of the 1980s and 1990s, ‘radical’ was more

often applied to policies coming from the nght than the left. It will be apparent that ‘radical’ means a vanety of things to those nurtured in different politcal systems. But our difficulties with the concept of radicalism do not end there.

As Condren points out, the word has two additional and often unstated meanings: “these are radical as expressing some

striking originality or departure

from existing norms, and radical as expressing a disposition to favour extensive

innovation” (Condren [1989] 533). Neither of these tendencies are inevitable consequences of radicalism, and Condren illustrates with examples the dangers inherent in unacknowledged shifts between varieties of meaning. So a thinker like Richard Hooker, who

argues for the status quo, has to be labelled con-

servative and cannot be radical, no matter how original his thought. Alternati-

vely, a change-resisting document like the Bill of Rights of 1690 concentrates

on fundamentals, and may therefore misleadingly be labelled ‘radical’."’ Similar problems attach to working with the meanings that cluster around ‘conservative’. “A word whose usefulness is matched only by its capacity to

confuse, distort and irritate”, is how Clinton Rossiter opens his article on ‘Conservatism’ in JESS. He goes on to distinguish four main types of conservatism:

temperamental,

situational, political and philosophical;

each

with its own sub-categories. “The principles of British conservatism are derived from

our national history”, wrote

William

Rees-Mogg

in the

Times for 18

MOGENS

March

1996.

HANSEN AND THE LABELLING OF ATHENIAN

He

went on to mention

DEMOCRACY

in a single sentence John Locke’s

doctrines of liberty and property, the institutionalism of Edward free-market economy of Adam

347

Burke, the

Smith, and the political careers of Pitt, Peel,

Churchill and Thatcher. Small wonder that, with such a variegated inheritance, the British Conservative Party has periodically been able to regroup

and so survive across almost two centuries.” How have historians of Athenian democracy negotiated these diversities of meaning? The brief survey that follows is necessarily impressionistic and draws mainly on material in English. IV The natural starting-point for a study of radicalism in Athenian democracy

might seem to be the great history of Greece by George Grote.'” Grote’s own political radicalism and his prominent membership of the group known as ‘Philosophical Radicals’ is well documented

(Clarke [1962] 24-74), as is the

ideological impuise behind his writing on Greek history (Momigliano [1966]; Chambers [1996]). But the relevant part of his history (ch. XXXI-XLVID) contains no examples of radical labelling, save the politically neutral phrase “radically altered” (TV.443), referring to the changed position of the popular juries after the legislation of Ephialtes and Perikles.

The metaphors favoured by Grote to characterise the fifth-century democracy tend to draw on the imagery of growth and movement: “the mature democracy, which prevailed from Perikles to Demosthenes” (III.366); “the full-grown and symmetrical democracy” (III.380, from 431 to the death of Perikles); “the fullest play and development” mocratical cast” of Athenian

public

life under

(IV.438, describing the “dePerikles);

“a fresh burst of

democratical sentiment” (TV.445, the effect of victory over the Persians); “the

expanding democracy against the stationary democracy of the past generation” (TV.449, Ephialtes and Perikles as opposed to Kimon).

Not that Grote was unwilling to talk about Athenian democracy in terms borrowed from contemporary English politics. His parenthetical (and slightly apologetic) description of Perikles as ‘Prime Minister’ of the Athenian people verges on the notorious (TV.454). But more revealing are the labels he affixes to participants in the struggle for power in Athens between the Persian and Peloponnesian Wars. “It was”, he writes (TV.448), “to this democratical party - the party of movement against that of resistance, or of reformers against conservatives, if we are to employ modern phraseology -- that Perikles devoted his great work,

character

and

abilities.” And

Grote

does

indeed

‘employ

modern phraseology’. One of his marginal summaries reads (TV.442), ‘Political

348

PAUL C. MILLETT

parties in Athens. Perikles and Ephialtes, democratical: Kimon, oligarchical or

conservative’. Elsewhere (TV.446), ‘the senate of the Areopagos’ is seen to “serve naturally as a centre of action to the oligarchical or conservative party” (TV.454).

This identification of the opposition

conservatives

may

well be Grote’s

own

to Perikles as coming

innovation.

Mitford

from

([1784-1810]

11.562, 584) and, less predictably, Thirlwall ((1835-44] 11.445} both present Kimon as leading the ‘aristocratical party’. In this way, the readers are (or were) impelled to make for themselves the final association of Perikles and his party of democratic reformers with Grote and his parliamentary radicals. The

connexion perhaps is all the more telling for not being made explicit.” The identity of the first historian to talk or write openly in terms of ‘radical democracy’ in Athens remains a mystery. A systematic search for the answer

might possibly prove inconclusive. concept came

If, as I believe, the inspiration for the

originally (though subliminally)

from Grote, the label might

appear almost simultaneously in different places.?) What matters here is the pervasiveness and durability of the notion that Athenian politics are particularly responsive to approaches along radical/liberal lines. Textbooks talk of “liberal Athenians” (Fine [1983] 391), and the “liberal and progressive constitution”

of Athens in the early fifth century (Hammond [1967] 190). One of the best discussions of the constitutional changes of 508 BC is entitled “Kleisthenes’

Reform Bill” (Andrewes [1977]). ‘Grote’s Greece’ is still very much with us.?? Grote’s vision of Athens and its democracy has hardly gone unchallenged;

but dissenting views have tended to take issue with his positive evaluation of radical/liberal democracy rather than the overall aptness of labels and categories. A case in point is the almost forgotten Oxford historian G.B. Grundy, author of an idiosyncratic two-volume account of Thucydides and the History of

His Age ([1911],

[1948]), an entertaining (if blood-pressure-raising) auto-

biography (1945), and an understandably neglected textbook of Greek and Roman history (1926). In all three places, the author complains bitterly about

the prevailing view of Greek history, that “the Athenians were early Victorian liberals” (Grundy [1926] 5). And he knows where to point the finger (Grundy [1945]

151): “It is plain in the case of Grote that he started with the idea of

proving the fifth-century Athenians had ideas identical with those of the Early Victorian Liberals and vice versa.” Grundy’s antidote was to attack vigorously the assumed excellence of the ‘Periclean democracy’, which he labels “that

strange political creation” (Grundy [1911] 103), and Perikles himself “a very able opportunist” (Grundy

[1926]

162). He diagnoses the problem as being

the transfer of power into the wrong hands (ἐδώ. 329): “Under Perikles, the indigent ultra-dernocrat became the controlling element in the policy of the state” (cf. ibid. 124, “this needy class”; ibid. 147, “proletariate”). The result

MOGENS

HANSEN AND THE LABELLING

OF ATHENIAN

DEMOCRACY

349

was large-scale dependence of the masses on the community for subsistence:

“unhealthy from both a social and a political point of view” (ibid. 107).” The group Grundy identifies as “Ultra-Democrats’ (elsewhere, ‘Extremists’) was the victor in a late sixth-century power-struggle for control of Athens over the party he labels ‘Moderate Democrats’ (ibid. 132, in place of the more usual ‘Democratic’ and ‘Aristocratic’ Parties). Although Grundy is nowhere explicit,

there can be no doubt where his sympathies lie. The Moderate Democrats were recruited from: “the yeoman and tenant farmer class, a section which, in spite of its democratic ideas, had that conservative tendency characteristic of a class which is, on the whole, in a satisfactory economic condition.”™ This

labelling of a favoured individual or group in Greek politics as ‘moderate’ has a long pedigree. Prominent among Mitford’s heroes were Kimon and Aristei-

des. Kimon [1784-1810]

had “openness, 1.322);

they

simplicity and unbending integrity”

both

shared

“mild

virtues,

(Mitford

accompanying

great

abilities” (διά. 528). Mitford singles out for praise their “wise moderaton ... in the direction of Athenian affairs” (ibid. 530); and, in his obituary notice for

Kimon, ‘moderation’ is highlighted alongside ‘wisdom, integrity’ and a ‘conciliating temper’. A rather different Kimon

may be encountered in my final

section.

The search for moderates in Athenian politics has intensified in our own century of extremes: an imagined ‘third force’ between the excesses of the radicals and the odiousness

of the oligarchs. A favoured

Theramenes: according to Hammond

figure used to be

([1967] 444), “a martyr to the dictum

that in an age of revolution moderate and patriotic citizens are destroyed”; until, that is, his cover was blown

by Harding

(1974).

A rival claimant is

Androtion; at least, as praised up by Jacoby, who reveals an intensity of feeling

out of all proportion to the evidence surviving: ... morally he was well above the average party politician. He

did not

practise politics as a business; he had moral principles, and he seems to

have been a patriot and an idealist. Though he was, to say the least, well to do ... he did not simply fall in with what is sometimes called ‘the party of the rich men’. I should rather say that he belonged to the ‘party’ of

decent and honourable men who were not lacking at any time even in a ‘degenerate’ democracy, apt though we are to forget this element (not in Athens alone) which is the real backbone in every state. ... He tried to steer a middle course between the parties which at this

time, difficult economically and otherwise, practised a policy of selfinterest, perhaps the conservatives even more than the radical democrats

(Jacoby [1954] 95-96).

350

PAUL C. MILLETT

All of which seems to tell us more about Jacoby than Androtion. Again, a more measured perspective is provided by Harding (1976). Perikles has naturally attracted supporters: for Hignett (1952) 252-260 he was a moderate, relative to the demagogues seen as replacing him. Woodhead (1970) 42-53 commends Perikles’ “moderating influence” (sophrosyne) on democratic polypragmosyne. According to his reading, support from the moderate ‘centre’ (to whom Thucydides himself belonged) was sought by both oligarchic mght and democratic left. A recent, if unlikely, candidate for an intermediate position is Alkibiades, who, according to his biographer (Ellis [1989]

16), “had to find

some ground between the radical demagogues and the conservative democrats”

(see briefly, Millett [1989b]).” All this seems a long way removed from Mogens Hansen and the ‘moderate

democracy’ with which we began.

V If this paper has a message, it is a plea for a shift away from what seems at first sight familiar about Athenian democracy towards what is unique. It is ironic that historians who rightly reject the ‘party’ approach to Athenian politics

should happily carry on using party labels.”° With Condren (1989) 542, I want to “Hazard a radical departure from the tradition of following the fads of the political domain.” More generally,

I would like to reassert the singularity of

Athenian democracy as a form of government; and, once again, I reluctantly find myself at odds with Mogens Hansen. In his brief but suggestive

study

“Was

Athens

a Democracy?”

(Hansen

[1989a]; cf. Hansen (1996]), Hansen sees himself as going against the trend of recent scholarship in order to emphasise similarities between ancient and modern democracy. His headings give an impression of the scope of the treatment: ‘Democracy as Ideology’, ‘Liberty’, ‘Public and Private — State and

Society’, ‘Equality’, ‘Liberty and Equality’. The conclusion reached is that, “demokrana as a political ideology was remarkably close to the political ideals

associated with liberal democracy from the mid-nineteenth to the present day” (Hansen {1989a] 2). In explanation, Hansen convincingly plays down the extent of the ‘Classical tradition’ in favour of independent development: “We

must not underrate man’s capacity in similar circumstances to develop strikingly similar - but basically unrelated — institutions and ideals” (Hansen [1989a] 27). He compares the development from tyranny through oligarchy to democracy in ancient Greece, with the move from monarchy to republic and democracy in modern (western) Europe.

MOGENS

HANSEN

AND THE LABELLING

OF ATHENIAN

DEMOCRACY

351

In abstract terms of argument, this may be right, and Hansen presents the

case with his customary vigour. And yet, I remain uneasy on two counts. First, there is the concern that identification of ancient with modern democracy may result in the appropriation of Athenian democracy as a warrant for the alleged inevitability of so-called ‘liberal democracy’. The allied process of crediting the

ancient world (and the Athenians in particular) with the invention of neoclassical economics and the capitalist-market economy is already under way.”

Secondly, I do not accept Hansen’s assumption of “similarity of circumstances” between developments in ancient Greece and modern Europe. The debate on the character of Athenian democracy seems to have polarised into a dialogue between the institutional and politico-sociological approaches favoured respectively by Hansen and Ober. I would like to convert this binary opposition into an eternal triangle by adding in an element of economic analysis. The changing economic context of democracy in Athens is a variable which both sides have tended to ignore.” This is not the place to attempt a rewriting of Athenian politics ‘with the economics put back in’; but I conclude this paper by hinting at some of the ways in which economics combined with

ideological and democracy.

institutional

factors

to shape

the

character

of Athenian

Let us begin with the legislation attributed to Kleisthenes.*

Even in

antiquity, the Kleisthenic politeia was variously viewed as ‘democratic’ (Ath. Pol. 13.1, with Rhodes [1981] ad loc.) and ‘aristocratic’ (Plut. Cim. 15). A possible

explanation (though not the only one) is the disjunction between institutions, ideology and economy: Aristotle in the Politics (1292b14-17) argues that a de-

mocratic constitution may be administered in an oligarchic spirit. Although the structures set in place were potentially democratic, there was lacking what Grote calls the ‘democratical sentiment’ needed to drive the system (IV.440). The

instrument

of continuing

aristocratic domination

may

have

been

the

economic relationship of patronage, as exemplified by the calculating generosity of Kimon

(Plut. Cim.

10; see Millett [1989a]

23-25). “His conduct, in

short”, wrote Mitford (1784-1810) 1.551, “was a continual preparation for an election.”

The period down to 462 may have experienced a gradual growth in the democratic self-consciousness of the demos, reflected in what Murray calls “a

succession of democratic changes in the spirit of the Kleisthenic reforms” (Murray [1980] 259). The events of 462 which marked the end of the “Indian summer of the Athenian aristocracy” (the phrase is Hignett’s, [1952] 192) are obscure to say the least. The most recent, detailed account by Wallace ({1989] 77-93) emphasises the part played by democratic ideology in promoting the changes. As a symbol of the refocusing of institutions and ideology,

352

PAUL C. MILLETT

there is the ostracism of Kimon in 461. His style of aristocratic patronage was presumably no longer appropriate in the new democracy. But not even Athenian

democrats

could

live

by

ideology

alternative form of ‘crisis insurance’.

replacement pendence

The

alone,

and

the

demos

solution seems

needed

to have been the

of private patronage with the option of public pay:

of the

masses

on

the

state,

of which

Grundy

an

so

the de-

vehemently

disapproved. Providing the wherewithal for an extended system of public payments were the resources of the empire.”! The institution of public pay is customarily associated with Perikles through his introduction of payment for jury service. His contribution may be seen as paradigmatic, along the lines of Kimon’s patronage, with which jury pay is explicitly contrasted (Ath. Pol. 27.3-4). It is high time to cut loose from Grote’s

enduring idealisation of Perikles, who may more realistically be seen as one of a succession of Athenian politicians who sought (reasonably enough) to secure their positions by proposing popular measures. There is a vivid illustration of

the technique from the end of the fifth century in the competitive bidding-up of assembly pay by Agyrrhios and Herakleides of Klazomenai from nothing to three obols (Ath. Pol. 41.3).” Behind this lies a deeper desire on my part to jettison the whole concept of

‘Periclean democracy’: surely more misleading than any other label in this paper, with its causal and proprietorial implications. As Kagan’s study of Penicles and the Birth of Athenian Democracy (1980) shows, the heroization of

Perikles is a living tradition.” Cutting Perikles down to a credible size removes the initial element from a long-standing conception of Athenian democracy (and history) that might loosely be described as ‘grandeur and decline’ (see Millett

[1993]

177-181).

In its crudest

form,

this arrangement

has

three

phases. First, there is the rise of Athens to the climax of the ‘Golden Age’ under the guiding hand of Perikles, its greatness exemplified by the power and wealth of the empire. Then comes the climacteric of the Peloponnesian War, culminating in the defeat of Athens and the loss of empire. The third stage is downhill all the way, via the so-called ‘crisis of the fourth century’ to Makedonian

domination

with the destruction

of the democracy

and

the end of

Athens as an independent pois. Although this is admittedly overdrawn, and few would accept today ‘grandeur and decline’ in its full form, the notion of ‘fifthcentury success’ and ‘fourth-century failure’ more than lingers on in the text-

books.* The privileging of fifth over fourth century goes back at least as far as Grote. Although his history does not (unlike many others since) end in 404, his fourth century is presented in muted tones (VII.92; cf. XXXI.397-398):

MOGENS HANSEN AND THE LABELLING OF ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY

The

Demosthenic

Athenian

of 360

B.C.

had

as it were

grown

353

old.

Pugnacity, Panhellenic championship, and the love of enterprise, had died within him. He was a quiet, home-keeping, refined citizen, attached to the democratic constitution, and executing with cheerful pride his ordinary city-duties under it; but immersed in industrial or professional pursuits,

in domestic comforts, in the impressive manifestations of the public religion, in the atmosphere of discussion and thought, intellectual as well as political.

To

renounce

all this for foreign

and

continued

military

service, he considered a hardship not to be endured, except under the pressure of danger near and immediate. The idea of a ‘changed atmosphere’

in post-War Athens is echoed in more

recent treatments.’ Grote’s identification of fourth-century decline with an inward-looking re-orientation, away from the outside world, is bound up with wider perceptions

of success

and failure; namely,

the power

to coerce,

as

represented by Athens’ empire. But there are other criteria of success, some of which

are more

appropriate

to Athens

and

its democracy

after the Pelo-

ponnesian War. I have noted above certain ways in which the Athenians strove to get to grips with the post-imperial economic problems which threatened to compromise the effectiveness of their democracy. Ober (1989a) has analysed the subtlety and

skill with which

the fourth-century Athenians

negotiated

through democratic discourse the precarious relationship between mass and élite. I close this paper with a final, brief illustration of the vitality of Athens’ democracy

in the fourth-century:

a socio-economic

counterpart

to Ober’s

exploration of socio-political relations. Aristotle’s view of the polis as a kotnonia (‘communality’), with which the Politics opens, is amplified in the Nicomachean Ethics (1159b29), where the extent of the oinonia is said to be co-terminous with the extent of philia be-

tween its members. And a few pages further on (1161b9-10), he argues that philia exists to the greatest degree in poleis which are democratic, “for there the people are equal (τοῦ and so have much in common (koinos).” The plausibility of Aristotle’s hypothesis is borne out in the broadest way by the tantalising absence of serious stasts from fourth-century Athens. Arguing along Anstotelian lines, the commitment to democracy in post-War Athens created a consensus

(grudging or otherwise) too strong to be challenged.

How

that con-

sensus was promoted and sustained is a complex question, but two sets of relations seem symbolic of the intersecting significance of economy, society and ideology.

Co-operation within the demos played its part, with a heavy emphasis on the practical side of the obligation to help one’s fellow-citizens. The centrality of

354

PAUL C. MILLETT

mutual support may be summed up by the eranos relationship, whereby citizens in financial difficulties felt able to go the rounds of fellow-citizens, collecting small- or large-scale loans as appropriate to status. Complementing this switching of resources between citizens on a reciprocal basis was the ongoing redistribution of wealth from rich to poor as exemplified by the competitive system of liturgies. The (to us) paradoxical blending of financial burdens with

enhanced status was contrived so that the wealthy continued to place their resources at the disposal of the demos.* From what I have written, my own fascination with fourth- rather than fifthcentury

Athens

will be

apparent:

a post-War,

post-imperial

society,

with

limited public resources, in which political leaders were not an entrenched élite,

but were

perpetually

accountable

to public

opinion;

and

where,

in

straitened circumstances, the sense of priorities ordained that the democratic system should be buttressed by the substantial reallocation of wealth from rich

to poor. But there is no harm in wishful thinking.”

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Millett, P.C. 1993. “Warfare, Economy and Democracy in Classical Athens,” in Rich &

Shipley (1993) 177-196. Millett, P.C. 1998. “The Rhetoric of Reciprocity in Classical Athens,” in Gill, Postlethwaite & Seaford (1998) 227-254.

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Millett, P.C. Forthcoming. “Alfred Zimmern’s Greek Commonwealth Revisited”. Mitford, W. 1784-1810. The History of Greece (London). Momigliano, A.D. 1966. “George Grote and the Study of Greek history,” in Studies in Histonography (London) 56-74. Moore, K. & Lewis, D. 1999. The Birth of the Mulanauonal. 2000 Years of Business History - from Ashur to Augustus (Copenhagen). Muller, J.Z. (ed.). 1998. Conservatism. An Anthology of Social and Political Thought from David Hume to the Present (Princeton, NJ). Murray, O. 1980. Early Greece (London). Murray, O. 1991. Review of Kagan (1990), Times Literary Supplement 12 April. Murray, Ο. & Price, 5. (eds.). 1990. The Greek City from Homer to Alexander (Oxford). Naif, B. 1996. Von Perikles zu Hitler? Die athenische Demokratie und die deutsche Althistorie bis 1945 (Frankfurt). Ober, J. 19898. Mass and Elite in Democranc Athens (Princeton, NJ). Ober, J. 1989b. Review of Hansen (1987), CP 84: 322-334. Ober, J. 1996. The Athenian Revolution. Essays on Ancient Greek Democracy and Polinical Theory (Princeton, NJ).

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Starr, C.G. 1990. The Birth of Athenian Democracy (Oxford). Ste. Croix, G.E.M. de. 1981. The Class Struggle in the Ancient Greek World (London). Stockton, Ὁ. 1990. The Classical Athentan Democracy (Oxford). Strauss, B.S. 1986. Athens after the Peloponnesian War (London & Sydney). Strauss, B.S. 1987. “Athenian Democracy. Neither Radical, Extreme, nor Moderate,” The Ancient History Bulletin 1: 127-129. Stroud, RS. 1998. The Athenian Grain-Tax Law of 374,3 B.C., Hesperia Supplement 29 (Princeton, NJ). Taylor, M. 1995. The Decline of English Radicalism, 1847-1860 (Oxford). Thirlwall, C. 1835-44. History of Greece 8 vols. (London). Thompson, D. 1995. Review of Taylor (1995), Times Higher Educanonal Supplement 22.1x.95. Thorley, J. 1996. Athenian Democracy (London).

Thür, G. 1983. Review of Hansen (1975), Gnomon 55: 601-610. Thur, G. 1995. “Die athenischen Geschworenengerichte - eine Sackgasse?,” in Eder (1995b) 322-331. Turner, ΕΜ. 1981. The Greek Heritage in Victonan Britam (New Haven & London). Vaio, J. 1966. “George Grote and James Mill: How to Write History,” in Calder & Trzaskoma (1966) 59-78, von Ungern-Sternberg, J. 1990. “Politik und Geschichte. Der Althistoriker Eduard Meyer im Ersten Weltkrieg,” in Demandt & Calder (1990) 484-504. Wallace, R.W. 1989. The Areopagus Council τὸ 307 B.C. (Baltimore & London). . Wallace-Hadrili, A. (ed.). 1980. Patronage in Ancient Society (London). Wilamowitz, Ulrich von. 1893. Anstoteles und Athen 2 vols. (Berlin). Will, Ed. 1980. Le monde grec et l’Orient’ (Paris). Willetts, D. 1992. Modern Conservatism (Harmondsworth). Woodhead, A.G. 1970. Thucydides on the Nature of Power (Cambndge, MA). Zimmern, A. 1911. The Greek Commonwealth (Oxford).

NOTES 1.

Unattributed page references in the text refer to this book. Pagination of the text (ch. 1-13) of the second edition (1999) remains unchanged. The passage quoted is repeated as the first of Hansen's “One Hundred

2.

and Sixty Theses about Athenian Democracy”

appended

(as ch. 14)

to the second edition (largely reprinting Hansen [1997]). An early version of this paper was read to a colloquium on “The Greek Revolution: Democracy and Citizenship” held in Darwin College, Cambridge in May 1992. I am especially grateful to my respondent Francois Hartog and also to Mogens Hansen, Lene Rubinstein and Paul Cartledge for their helpful comments. I note in passing the packaging of Athenian democracy in a more literal sense; namely, the iconography of covers of recent books about Athens and its democracy. In most cases, the images are all too predictable: Parthenon (or Akropolis) and Perikles. Stockton’s The Classical Athenian Democracy (1992) has a view of buildings on the Akropolis (likewise Meier's Athens of 1999). Koumoulides’

celebration

of The

Good

Idea.

Democracy

in Ancient

Greece

(1995)

shows

the

Propylaia; Saxonhouse’s Athenian Democracy. Modern Mythmakers and Ancient Theorists (1996) has

a shadowy

simulacrum

of the

Parthenon.

The

first edition

of Roberts’

introduction

to

MOGENS HANSEN AND THE LABELLING OF ATHENIAN DEMOCRACY

359

Classical Athens (in fact, the fifth century), City of Sokrates (1984), had an evocative picture of the Parthenon (by moonlight?}). The Oxford History of the Classical World (1986) carries on its front a Pompeian mosaic representing Plato’s Academy, complete with white-robed philosophers busily disputing against a background of columns; on the back is the famous bust of Perikles, which also peers around the cover of Kagan’s Pericles of Athens (1990), and is given a double exposure on Thorley’s Atheman Democracy (1996). Altogether more imaginative are Hansen's The Arhenian Democracy in the Age of Demosthenes (1991) with a reconstruction of the Monument for Eponymous Heroes (second edition: relief from the treaty between Athens and Korkyra). Likewise, Ober’'s The Athenian Revolunon (1996) which has a wall from the Terrace of the Mysteries at Eleusis, white his Mass and Elite (1989) shows Demokrana crowning Demos from the Eukrates decree; Murray & Price’s The Greek City (1990) gives us some of the text. Representative of the old school is Hignett (1952), who condenses the fourth-century democracy into a single sentence (298); even Garner in his study of Lato and Society in Classical Athens (1987)

can manage only a concluding chapter on "The Fourth Century’ (131-144). For the alternative approach,

see

Stockton

(1990).

Hansen

(1989c)

raises

specific

objections

against

the

long

synchronic span of Sinclair’s Democracy and Participanon in Athens (1988); contrast his approving words (Hansen [1985]) on the fourth-century bias of Rhodes’ commentary on Ath. Pol. (Rhodes (1981]). The indispensability of the Orators is indicated by the poverty of material available to Starr in his study of The Birth of Athenian Democracy (1990). Hansen’s justified compiaint that those writing on the fifth century indiscriminately plunder fourth-century sources was made long ago by Grote

(1846-56) 111.358. The catalogue is compiled from the helpful check-list in the review of Sinclair (1988) by Hansen

(1989c) 7-12, where full references are given; compare the summary of fourth-cennury differences in Hansen (1991) 152, 300-301. I have not included any discussion of reform of the ephebes or strategot, where implications for ‘moderation’ are unclear; likewise, the problem of pay for fourthcentury officials, which at present Hansen (1980); Gabrielsen (1981).

seems

irresolvable:

Hansen

(240-242);

Hansen

(19796);

For the nine secure nomoi on stone, plus other possible references, sec Stroud (1998) 15-16. Even *'insurutionalists’ like Rhodes ([1980] 305-306) and MacDowell ([1978] 48-49) downplay the practical significance of nomothesia. Of course, the argument cannot be allowed to rest there; but Wasps does at least call into question Hansen’s assertion that the association of increasing age with growing rationality and maturity

is never questioned. “Anstophanes’ old men are complex and ambivalent” writes Hubbard (1990) 90; cf. Kirk (1971). Any broad correlation of changing political attitudes against age may be swamped by the experiences of individual cohorts. In general terms, the Fellows of Downing College, Cambridge would appear to be more liberal-minded than its undergraduates. With reference to the Phokion affair, Hansen (291) gives the impression - no doubt unintentionally - that the Arcopagos exercised some form of (un)consututional veto (“the Arcopagus interfered with the people’s election of a new general and secured the appointment of Phokion instead of Charidemos”). As I understand the passage in Plut. Phoc. (16.3), those demanding the

election of Charidemos were only a section of the assembly (thoryberoiai kat neoteristoi); the members of the council of the Areopagos put the opposing view (with an appropriately emotional display) and the demos duly elected Phokion. The integral part played in assembly proceedings by heckling and other interruptions is explored in a paper being prepared by Judith Tacon. So ambiguous is our information about the Arcopagos that Wallace (1989) 118-119 can make out a case (albeit inconclusively) for the identification of apophasis with Demosthenes’ decree. For a recent discussion of the law of Eukrates (broadly in line with my view in the text), see Wallace (1989) 179-184. Whether or not the Areopagos enjoyed in the later fourth century a higher profile in the politeia, its actions were not universally popular; at least, not all the time. Apart from the tone of Deinarchos’ reference to Demosthenes’ decree (Din. 1.62-63, “you gave over and surrendered the whole city to this council, which you will presently tell us is oligarchic”), there was an apparently spontaneous interruption from the jurors when Lykourgos mentioned in passing, some eight years later, executions carried out as a result of the decree (Lycurg.

1.52).

Compare the election of ten men ‘from all the Athenians’ to oversee storage, transport and sale of the grain that is the subject of the recently published grain-tax law of 374/3. Stroud (1998) 68-

360

10.

11.

12.

PAUL C. MILLETT

73 supplies weighty reasons why the right kind of citizen was needed. By Hansen’s own admission (133), Perikles’ avoidance of summoning an assembly during the Peloponnesian War would have been unconstitutional in the later fourth century; more or less democratic? As the reader may appreciate who follows through Hansen’s necessarily fine-spun response (Hansen [1997] 250-254) to objections raised by Thür (1983) & (1995) and Rhodes (1995) against arguments from Hansen (also Sealey [1987] 146-148; Osrwald [1986] 497-524) for a fourth-century shift in the balance of power away from assembly to the courts. Is the sum of evidence for fourth-century moderation greater than individual snippets might seem to suggest? This could conceivably be a case for the so-called ‘wigwam argument’ - associated (at least in Cambridge) with the name of Keith Hopkins ([1978] 19-20). But it may be noted that Rhodes (1980) 320 (cf. CAH* VI 565-579), after surveying much the same material, concludes of the post-War politeia that “There was nothing in this to worry a democrat who survived the war”. The objection was raised by Ober (1989b) 329 in his review of Hansen (1987). Hansen’s response (1990b) 242-243 is to point out that speakers addressing the assembly do not harp on its supremacy; but perhaps the demos seated on the Pnyx did not need to be reminded of the obvious.

13.

A case in point is the unexplained introduction of ‘radical democracy’ into the deservedly popular JACT textbook, The World of Athens ((1984) 10, 23). Hardly any of the many undergraduate pupils I have questioned over the years have any realistic notion of what ‘radical’ might mean when applied to Athenian democracy. My reading of non-English works has hardly been systematic, but I have casually come across the equivalent of ‘radical democracy’ in Cloché (1951) 396, Will (1980) 73, and Bleicken (1985) 35.

14.

I must acknowledge a considerable debt to Condren’s paper for having firmed up my own half-

15.

formed thoughts; I am grateful to Jonathan Scort for having brought this article to my attention. Tea subtitle, ‘A Case of Sandwich Island’s Syndrome?’ refers to the exclamation of one of the Islanders on observing the pockets in the clothes of Captain Cook and his men: “they have doors in the sides of their bodies”. Two examples. Condren cites the case of A Biographical Dienonary of English Radicals in the 17th Century (Greaves & Zaller [1982-84]), which turns out to include everyone not demonatrably conservauve.

Or, as commented

by the reviewer, Colin Davis (1985), a more appropriate title

would be A Biographical Dictionary of English Opportunists in the 17th Century. Dorothy Thompson (1995) makes a similar criticism (“It seems impossible that in the 1990s anyone could take the

term ‘radical’ as unproblematic”) of Taylor's post-Condren account of The Decline of English Radicalism (1995). 16.

The letter by Byron is quoted from Condren (1989) 533, with Byron’s own emphasis. That ‘radical’ and ‘radical reform’ were in use from the late eighteenth century is shown by examples

in OED. 17.

Which is why Boegehold (1996) 203 can confront the reader with the apparent paradox that “what we are pleased to call radical [Athenian] democracy was sustained even in its full form by a deep vein of conservatism.” For the capacity of ‘conservative’ to confuse when applied to ancient political categories, try Jacoby’s painfully convoluted identification of a ‘conservative party’ in fourth-century Athens Jacoby [1949] 293 n. 22). For a clearer (and shorter) statement: Wallace (1989) n. 3.

18.

See Willetts (1992); compare the range of authors cited in the ‘anthologies’ of conservatism by Baker (1994) and Muller (1998).

19.

The variety of editions of Grote’s History causes problems for citation. The majonty of my references are to Pt. II Ch. XLVI, ‘Constitutional and Judicial Changes at Athens under Perikles’. A reprint of the one-volume abridgement of Grote (1907) with a new introduction by Cartledge is in press. Vaio (1966) 73 notes that Grote’s post-Kleisthenic ekklesia exemplifies the reformed House of Commons, as urged by the philosophical radicals; Clarke (1962) 126 describes Grote as “seeing the Athenian demagogues as Radical members of the House of Commons”. German historians of the late nineteenth century responded uniformly and unenthusiastically to Grote’s radicalliberal appropriation of Athenian history: Pöhlmann (1911) 236 (reprinting an

20.

MOGENS

21.

HANSEN AND THE LABELLING

OF ATHENIAN

DEMOCRACY

361

article from 1880); Wilamowitz (1893) 1.378-379: “radikal und im feineren Sinne unhistorisch”; Beloch (1912-27) 1.2 12: “da der Verfasser zu den Liberalen gehörte, haben die griechischen Demokraten immer Recht”; Meyer (1901) III.293-294: “nicht eine Geschichte, sondern eine Apologie Athens”; cf. below, n. 22. One might compare uncertainty over the inventor of the nickname ‘The Old Oligarch’ (see Marchant & Bowersock [1968] 463 n. 1). The earliest full-scale account of ‘radical democracy’ known to me is a long chapter, rich in anachronism, in Meyer’s Geschichte des Altertums (1901)

M.527-583; see comments by Christ (1972) 286-333; Sösemann (1990); von Ungern-Stemberg (1990). The encyclopaedic study by Naf (1996) of modern German accounts of Athenian democracy seems not to address the question. “Radicalism, Greek’ appears in the index of the first edidon of Zimmern’s Greek Commonwealth, where the Greeks are characterised as ‘Natural Radicals’ (Zimmern [1911] 72), and Thucydides’ sophoteroi (3.37) become ‘Radicals’ (ibid. 220). But that is not the same thing as ‘radical democracy’. On Zimmern’s shifting terminology of radicalism, see my forthcoming paper. 22.

The ease with which historians slip from ‘radical’ to ‘liberal’ (and vice versa) indicates the Auidity

of the terminology. Havelock famously devoted a whole book to The Liberal Temper in Greek Politics (1957). Written explicidy under the impulse of the Cold War and “in a sort of sustained fury of composition”, he champions (against the authoritarianism of Plato and Aristotle) those half-forgotten theorists (Demokritos, Protagoras, Antiphon and others) who “argued that political and even moral

convictions were negotiable, that the path of duty does not run counter to self-interest, and that in cases of doubt it is better to prefer amity above justice” (Havelock [1957] 9). The difficulties in matching up ancient philanthroma with modern liberal concepts (themselves problematic, see Parekh [1994]} are set out in the detailed review by Brunt (1959). 23.

A similar argument has been advanced more recently in the textbook of Greek history by Bengtson ((1969]; trans. 1988). In vol. II of his Thucydides (1948) 157-212, Grundy elaborates at length on his conception of party politics in fifth-century Athens.

24.

Turner (1981) 248 convincingly reads Grundy’s earliest work on Preliminaries (1901) as, in part, an indictment of contemporary political preferences were made explicit by his organisation of the of Asquith, former Liberal Prime Minister, for the Chancellorship

The Great Persian War and its English liberalism. Grundy’s opposition to the candidarure of Oxford University in 1925.

“As author of the measure which had placed trade unions outside the law relating to such associations, a grave and dangerous departure from the principles of English law ... Lord Asquith was not a popular candidate with Conservatives at Oxford” (Grundy [1945] 142). As a result of

25.

Grundy’s campaigning, there was elected Lord Cave, Lord Chancellor of the day, and a man of agreed mediocrity Jenkins [1964] 579). On Woodhead’s own perspective as a “right-wing romantic” see Green (1972) 84-93. Such evidence as exists for a ‘moderate’ group in fourth-century Athens is collected by de Romilly (1954). One might compare the re-invention over time of Solon as ‘moderate’ (Bury & Meiggs {1975] 124), ‘moderate conservative’ (Ehrenberg [1973] 74) and even ‘revolutionary’ (Forrest

[1966] 160-161). 26.

On the inapplicability of ‘parties’ to Athenian politics and the possible alternatives, see Strauss (1986) 9-41. Although Sealey (1955) rightly questions the appropriateness of modern political labels to ancient politics, equally implausible is his proposed reconstruction based on personal connexions to the exclusion of ideology (on which see Brock {1991]).

27.

Neo-classical economics as a Greek invention: Lowry (1987); the market economy as present in Classical Greece: Cohen (1992); likewise the multinational: Moore & Lewis (1999).

28.

On Ober as underplaying the economic dimension: Millett (1989c); cf. Hansen’s brevity on the ‘Economic Background’ (315-319). Hansen’s earlier work on Greek economy and society (Isager & Hansen [1975]) suggests a more modernising approach than I would favour. For a judicious summary of ‘The Reform of the Athenian State by Cleisthenes’, see Ostwald in

29.

CAH’ IV.303-346; see Hansen (1994) for a wide-ranging defence of Kleisthenes as the originator

of democracy in Athens. Ic is in character that Grote should try to rewrite the Herodotean account to show Kleisthenes proposing his popular legislation before he needed to win mass support against Isagoras (111.350); whereas Mitford (1784-1810) 1.305 seeks to defend Isagoras’ appeal for Spartan heip.

362 30.

PAUL C. MILLETT

Murray's account goes down to 480; for a full survey, see Martin (1974). Grote cites Herodotos (5.78-91) and the French Revolution in confirmation of the ‘electric effect’ of democracy on the

Athenians under and after Kleisthenes (Pt. TI Ch. XXXD. 31.

32.

33,

34,

35.

36.

Though Hansen would disagree (318-319). The economic implications of imperialism for democracy in Athens have been set out briefly by Schuller (1984) and at greater length by Schmitz (1988). Schmitz’s book is valuable as providing full documentation for the material benefits claimed by the Athenian élite from the empire: surely one reason why they were anomalously prepared to tolerate the move towards democracy? Agytrhios is now known as proposer of a law from 374/3 arranging for farming of taxes on grain imports: see the exemplary publication of the edine princeps by Stroud ([1998]; on Agytrhios’ career: ibid. 16-25). It would be fitting if Herakleides’ nickname of ‘king’ (basileus) somehow referred to his bidding for popularity; but Rhodes (1981) ad loc. is presumably right to see some connexion with the Persian king. A part of Kagan’s preface deserves quotation: “One feature that requires special explanation is my practice of attributing many actions of the Athenian people to Pericles, as if he could make decisions for the entire people ... ” (Kagan [1990] 8). As a piece of appropriation on behalf of Perikles, that is breathtaking. See the astonished review by Murray (1991). For a more measured assessment of Perikles (compare chapter titles with Kagan): Podlecki (1998). Arguments for and against fourth-century crisis and decline are set out, with bibliography, by Eder (1995b) and Davies (1995). Meier’s recently translated Athens; A Portrait of the City in Its Golden Age (1999) breaks off in 404 on the grounds that Athens, though “the most important city of the Greeks ... had simply ceased to be a major political power” (Meier [1999] 584). Ehrenberg (1973) 384 closes his account of Greek history in 400, which he regards as the end of the true ‘Classical age’. What follows is effectively damned with faint praise (“On the positive side the decline of the polis showed remarkable retardments ... ”). “The atmosphere is different” is Rhodes’ verdict on the fourth-century democracy, in a summing-up reminiscent of Grote (Rhodes [1980] 322; cf. Rhodes [1995] 316-319). For fuller statements of the implications of mutual support and liturgical redistribution in Athens, see Millett (1991) & (1999). They

represent, of course, only a part of the story of democratic

stability in the fourth-century. 37.

Tam grateful to Barry Strauss for alerting me to his brief but trenchant paper (1987), which also urges abandoning radical, moderate

and extreme as labels for Athenian democracy. We differ,

however, in our view of the appropriateness of 'Periclean democracy’

The Old Oligarch (Pseudo-Xenophon’s Athenaion Politeta) and Thucydides. A Fourth-Century Date for the Old Oligarch?*

SIMON HORNBLOWER

The Old Olıgarch is a cunous work and has elicited some curious modern reactions. My favourite is from Jennifer Tolbert Roberts’ recent book Athens

on Trial. In a gem of political correctness, she writes that although she will be using the conventional name Old Oligarch, “no slight to old age is implied in my use of the epithet”.! My paper deals with both Athenian democracy and also (in ways which will emerge shortly) with Thucydides, and is thus I hope a suitable tribute for the honorand of the present volume, who has not only

transformed our understanding of the first topic through a vast output, but has also notably, though less prolifically, advanced our understanding of the

second.” My

subject is a short prose

Xenophon,

treatise preserved

among

the writings

of

familiarly known as the Old Oligarch (henceforth O.O.), a nick-

name said to originate from Gilbert Murray, though no-one is quite sure.’ The

more pompous and correct title is the Athenian Constiturion of PseudoXenophon, not to be confused with the Athenian Consntunon of PseudoAristotle, the so-called Ath. Pol. My thesis in a nutshell will be that O.O. is a

fourth-century work about the fifth-century Athenian democracy and empire, which the author pretends are still in existence; that it is in fact a clever (if clumsily written), ludic, work of imaginative fiction which perhaps belongs to the genre of literature associated with the symposion

or ritualized drinking

session (I do not mean that the treatise itself was recited at an actual symposton). Be that as it may, it is the date which is the novelty about my interpretation. I begin by saying something about the contents of the treatise itself. The O.O. takes the form of an ostensibly admiring tribute to what is evidently the

fifth-century Athenian democracy and its empire. The author generally praises the demos for the way it organises things, though his defiant opening sentence makes or purports to make his own position clear. “I do not” he says “approve

of the constitution chosen by the Athenians because it gives power to the vulgar at the expense of the good”, though he immediately goes on to say that

364

SIMON HORNBLOWER

they preserve their constitution and manage affairs very well, understand “from their own point of view”. Moreover his use of expressions like the βέλτιστοι or “best men”, when he clearly means wealthy and oligarchic persons, has usually been taken to indicate his real sympathies. In other words, the praise is ironic, the salute of an enemy, and the principle underlying the treatise is fas est et ab

hoste doceri. But there is an obvious possibility that the speaker is really a very clever democrat choosing to adopt a grumpy oligarchic persona as an amusing and unorthodox way of praising democracy. Contrast for instance Paul Cartledge in the new Cambridge Companion to Greek Tragedy, for whom O.O. is “certainly an oligarch”.‘ I cannot develop this point here, but would merely note that every ostensible piece of praise for oligarchy or criticism of democracy turns out, sometimes after a further sentence or two, to be back-handed, i.e.

would really give pleasure to a sophisticated democratic listener. (Note e.g. 1.9: as a result of these excellent measures the demos would soon fall into slavery;

or the remarks at 1.13 on the way the people become wealthy and the wealthy poorer, cf. 2.9-11 on the mechanisms by which the demos enjoys costly pleasures at public expense which the rich have to pay for privately.) On my view there are actually three levels to O.O.: the surface level is praise of fifthcentury democracy for looking after itself so well. This (on the normal view) is the insincere praise, actually the cnticisms, of a fifth-century oligarch and hater of Athenian imperialism, level 2. This is itself (on my view) a cover for level 3, which is democratic after all, in the sense that the criticisms would

themselves give joy to fourth-century democratic listeners. The structure and sequence of thought of the O.O. are not transparent, but

I shall attempt to describe them. The three-chapter division is arbitrary, but there is no reason to think it is original to the author. The first chapter, up to paragraph 13, discusses the general social and political set-up at Athens. The author then moves on to the empire, περὶ δὲ tov ξυμμάχων (“about the allies”), and

talks

of the ways

in which

the

empire

is run

for the

benefit

of the

Athenians. The last two paragraphs of chapter 1 deal with naval matters (the connection of thought is that naval expertise is necessary for the policing of a

maritime empire). This enables the author to move on to military topics, such as defensibility, in the early part of chapter 2. But from military self-sufficiency the argument

spreads

out

to include

economic

self-sufficiency

e.g.

2.7ff.,

including a notable exploration of island ideology. There is a jump in thought at 2.17 & 18, where the author talks about the political methods of the democracy, e.g. it blames others for its own decisions, and it refuses to let itself

be mocked in comedy. Chapter 3 is much concerned with legal issues. Here the tone is more explicitly critical or pseudo-critical, and so is the section on Athenian policy towards stasis abroad.

3.11, near the end of the work, lists

THE OLD OLIGARCH

365

places where the Athenians have misguidedly supported oligarchies (Boiotia,

Miletos). This could however be seen as an ingeniously coded warning, by a democrat, of the risks of supporting non-democratic regimes. That is, it is not really a criticism at all; see above.

The strange modern name Old Oligarch alerts us to a problem I do not want to get into, namely authorship;

I shall be concerned

instead with date and

purpose. The O.O. is one of a number of problematic shortish prose works of the late Classical Greek period. It is rather more problematic than the Aristotelian Athenaion Politeia, whose

date (about 330 BC)

is pretty clear and

whose didactic purpose is straightforward, the only problem being its precise relation to Aristotle and the Academy. The ©. O. is rather less problematic than a very odd pamphlet indeed, the Pert Politeias or On the Constttution attributed to Herodes, which deals with events in Thessaly in about 400 BC. Though H.T. Wade-Gery tried to argue that this was a genuine late fifth-century BC work written by the notorious oligarch Kritias, the most authoritative modern view, that of D.A. Russell, sees the Herodes treatise as a product of the Second

Sophistic i.e. the second century AD.” That is a very startling jump indeed. Nobody has yet tried to detach the O.O. from the Classical period, nor shall 1 be trying to do so. Incidentally August Boeckh thought Kritias was the author

of the 0.0.°

Part One: a fourth-century date?

The present paper is an attempt to fulfil a promise I made in 1995 in an article on the fourth-century and Hellenistic reception of Thucydides. In a footnote about the O.O.

in that article, I said I hoped

to return to the intertextual

relation between Thucydides and the O.O. The present paper is something else as well, an attempt at an amplification of the entry on the O.O. which I wrote for the new Oxford Classical Dictionary (OCD) that dictionary

(1949,

1970)

had

no

in 1996.’ Previous editions of

separate

entry

at all; the

O.O.

was

disposed of in a couple of sentences in the entries on Xenophon. But my views were and are unorthodox, so (quite apart from considerations of space) I felt inhibited from coming completely clean about them in a work of reference. So

in the entry I indicated my doubts but made it clear they were heretical and ended up saying that the usual view sees the O.O. as “good evidence for facts and attitudes about Athenian democracy”, i.e. that of the fifth century, and I

could have added the fifth-century Athenian empire. But that is what I want to challenge in this paper. A Festschrift is a kind of celebration, and thus a good sympotic occasion on which to explore the idea of the O.O. as in some sense

SIMON HORNBLOWER

366

sympotic; after all, symposia were as we shall see occasions for paradoxes and riddles. That is to say, my paper may share some of the deplorably frivolous characteristics I shall be trying to impute to the O.O. I hope to show that O.O. is in some sense a fictional work, that it is in a pretentious word “ludic”. Above all I want to argue that it is a product not of

the fifth century at all but that it is, like some of Plato’s dialogues, a product of the fourth century but with a carefully crafted dramatic date in the fifth. Richard Rutherford’s recent book on Plato shows how much care Plato took

about historical verisimilitude in e.g. the Theaetetus and Symposium.’ 1 avoid saying that O.O. is not serious because the word “serious” is treacherous,’ and I do not want to say that O. O. was unserious in any sense which implies it lacks

bite. But I do want to say that it is hypothetical and imaginary, and that it shows knowledge of Thucydides and should not be treated as independent

evidence as it is by many ancient historians.'° I shall also suggest that O.O. belongs to the genre of symposton literature and that that this explains some of its peculiarities. Recent work in two distinct areas has prompted me to try these two ways of

looking at an old problem. First, intensive work has been done since about 1960 on literary and epigraphic forgeries, or rather on what has been called “invented tradition”.'' Christian Habicht, John Davies, Anthony Grafton and

others have identified the fourth century BC as the great period of this sort of

invention.'? Literary scholars are familiar with the problems posed by such works as the Platonic Menexenus which has a clear intertextual relation to the straight

type

of Funeral

Speech.’?

Second,

the

symposion

and

sympotic

literature have in recent years been an area of intense recent activity, much of

it directly by or indirectly to the credit of Oswyn Murray.'* My starting point has to be Thucydides, but before I get on to him let us look at the kind of arguments which historians have used hitherto for the dating of the ©. O. For instance Glen Bowersock in the late 1960s thought that the lack of any reference at 3.11 to the revolt of Samos means the treatise must

have been written before 441 BC.’ But the O.O. was not giving an exhaustive list of places where Athens tolerated oligarchies, and in any case the facts about Samos

(what

kind of regime

was

installed after the revolt?)

are not quite

certain." Other historians have pounced on 2.5, where the O.O. says that long land journeys are unthinkable for a land power. But Brasidas made such a journey in 424 BC (see Thuc. 4.78 for his lighting march through Thessaly

to Thrace); therefore -- we are told — the O.O. must antedate 424.'’ My view of the dating problem, as conventionally formulated, comes closest to that of

Gomme, who had an exhilaratingly short way with most of the internal dating arguments, “as though careful statement, a fine accuracy about constitutional

THE OLD OLIGARCH

367

detail, were characteristic of [the O.O.]”: Gomme himself opted for 420-415, refusing (for instance) to be impressed by the argument from 2.5, the supposed impossibility of long land journeys if you are a land power, something

(see

above) allegedly unthinkable after Brasidas and 424. On the contrary, Gomme rightly said, Brasidas’ difficulties getting through Thessaly illustrate and do not contradict this. Gomme makes one very interesting point which could be taken much further and indeed in a totally different direction altogether: he noted in effect (p. 51) that the absence of reference to an important event should not necessarily be taken to indicate a terminus ante quem; it might also be evidence

that a considerable time had elapsed since that event. Gomme dated the work as we saw to 420-415 but I shall cry to take the logic of his point further. A better approach is via Thucydides. Factual allusions apart, the main reason for dating O.O. to the third quarter of the fifth century is the set of parallels with Thucydides, who is normally assumed to be echoing O.O. (Nestle was so impressed by the similarities that he actually thought the author of the O.O. was Thucydides himself).’® The passages which most obviously suggest intertextual relation with Thucydides are: 1.8, ἐλεύθερος εἶναι καὶ ἄρχειν, “to be free and to rule”, cf. Thuc. “freedom

3.45.6 ἐλευθερίας ἢ ἄλλων ἀρχῆς,

or rule over others”, a very important interesting and character-

istically Greek equivalence, also found in Herodotos, Plato and Polybios (see further below and ἢ. 30); 1.9 on eunomia, obedience to law, cf. Thuc.

1.18.1,

itself indebted to Herodotos and perhaps Tyrtaios before him; 1.16, the allies are made to come to Athens for judicial proceedings, cf. Thuc. the allies’ need to flatter the Athenian people, cf. Thuc.

1.77.1; 1.18 on

3.11.7;

1.19-20 on

naval experience, cf. Thuc. 1.142; 2.1 on numerical inferiority in infantry, mi-

tigated by allied contributions, cf. Thuc. 1.143 καὶ Πελοποννησίοις. στρατεύειν; 2.4, ravaging of Peloponnesian territory, cf. Thuc. 1.143.4; 2.10-11, desirable things flow into Athens, cf. Thuc. Thuc.

2.38.2 and

1.120.2; 2.9, relaxations, cf.

2.38.1; 2.14, “if we were islanders”, ci γὰρ νῆσον οἰκοῦντες cf. Thuc.

1.143.5 εἰ γὰρ ἦμεν νησιῶται (“strikingly similar” as Bowersock says in his note in the Loeb ed.); 2.16 the Athenians convey their property to the islands for safety, cf. Thuc. 2.14, the evacuation of cattle etc. to Euboia.

So much for chapters I and 2 of the O.O., which have the greatest con-

centration of Thucydidean echoes.’? But chapter 3 contains at least one passage which has always been thought to have great historical importance and must be discussed separately, namely 3.11 on the Athenians’ occasional sup-

port of oligarchs (the βέλτιστοι or always turned out badly for them. soon enslaved, Miletos where the demos, and Messenia where the

“upper classes”), a policy which O.O. He instances Boiotia where the demos upper classes revolted and cut down Athenians preferred the Spartans to

says was the the

368

SIMON HORNBLOWER

Messenians, but soon the Spartans overthrew the Messenians and made war on the Athenians. As long as O.O. was considered to be an independent and fifth-century source, the generalization here was thought to be of great value,

because it identifies a feature of Athenian policy (occasional toleration of oligarchies) which Thucydides either in his own

person

does

not identify or comment

or in the mouths

of speakers,

on explicitly

but which

can be

inferred from his own narrative and from some epigraphic evidence. But how

independent are O.O.’s particular exempla? Let us start with the last (the Athenians preferred the Spartans to the Messenians). This is usually and surely rightly taken to be a reference to the Athenian help to the Spartans at the time

of the helot revolt, see Thuc. 1.102.3, an episode shortly followed by the First Peloponnesian War in which (for at least some of the time) the Spartans did indeed fight the Athenians. There is nothing here that could not have been derived from Thucydides, although of course the Athenian expedition to help

the beleaguered Spartans was a well-known event mentioned, for instance, by Aristophanes

(Lys.

1137f.).

As

for Athenian

interference

in Boiotia,

this

probably refers to the ten-year period of Athenian control from 457 (see Thuc.

1.108.3);

more

than

one

Theban

speaker

in Thucydides

says

that

the

Athenians exploited stasts at this time (3.62.5, 4.92.6) and it is conceivable that these cryptic references lie behind the O.O.’s claims. It is not easy to make anything of the Milesian reference. Miletos features in the prehistory of the

Samian revolt described in Thucydides Book 1 (Thuc. 1.115.2ff.), and there is trouble at Miletos in Book 8 of Thucydides,

but nothing in either book

which can be brought into obvious connection with the O.O.’s account. For an attested oligarchic slaughter of the demos at Miletos we have to wait until

405 BC, just before the battle of Aigospotamoi (Diod. 13.104.5-6; Plut. Lys. 8); this is well beyond Thucydides’ chronological range, but well before the date of O.O. on the view taken in the present paper, and it might conceivably

lie behind

O.O.

3.11. Athenian

support of oligarchy at mid-fifth-century

Miletos is not impossible and is usually assumed, but the epigraphic evidence

is complicated and very hard to interpret; in particular the O.O.’s statement about Athenian support of Milesian oligarchy has exerted a powerful pull on all interpretations. Epigraphically-attested Milesian molpos and prosetatrot can no longer safely be regarded as oligarchic officials, and in one inscription the

prosetairoi have been eliminated altogether.”) Where does all this leave the O.O.? The material about the Messenians can easily be explained as Thucy-

didean in origin, and that about Boiotia can possibly be so explained. The Milesian material has no counterpart in Thucydides, and may conceivably be independent

evidence

derived from

some

good

(or bad) non-Thucydidean

source. As for the opening generalization about support of oligarchies, this may

THE OLD OLIGARCH

369

be just an extrapolation from the three instances given, and if with Leduc we regard these as distortions of popular tradition, we shall not take the generalization very seriously either; nor shall we take it any more seriously if we think that Messenia and Boiotia derive from Thucydides and that Miletos is a travesty of events mentioned in Thucydides Books 1 or 8. But if we take the most charitable view possible of the O.O.’s information we can say that his particular Milesian information is good and independent of Thucydides, and that his generalization is compatible with what we know from epigraphic evidence and from the implications of Thucydides’ own narrative (above n. 20). But in any case, on the view taken in this paper, the O.O.’s evidence is that of a fourth-century commentator, and it should be treated with appropriate caution, as we treat for instance that of Isokrates.

.

The parallels discussed above are not the only possible points of contact

with Thucydides, but I hope they are enough to make the point.” I regard all these parallels as cumulatively impressive, that is, I would be unhappy with the agnostic objection that these are coincidences. But I accept that such an agnostic position cannot be disproved. A more plausible objection to my position is the line that both authors were just voicing contemporary preoccupations (e.g. with sea-power) in con-

temporary language, perhaps drawing on a common

source.” De Romilly

came close to this line of argument as we shall see very shortly. Again, Claudine Leduc, in an extremely valuable and intelligent monograph, laid out a table of parallels between the O.O. and two speeches of the Thucydidean Perikles (the first war-speech at the end of Book 1, and the Funeral Oration), and she concluded that O.O. and Thucydides both refer to speeches actually made by Perikles.?* In her view the first two chapters of the ©. O. (but not the

third)” were largely inspired by the real-life Perikles, though she thought that O.O. added material derived from the school of Antiphon (this was part of her general view that O.O. is a sort of sophistic agon or competitive exercise). The trouble with this view is that it ignores the entire problem of the authenticity of Thucydides’ speeches. Leduc’s view works only if we assume that the Thucydidean Funeral Oration reproduced Perikles’ language and thought faithfully and in detail; but there are good reasons for thinking that Thucy-

dides’ Funeral Speech is a very idiosyncratic example of the genre, above all in its concentration on the present as opposed to the past.”° Nor is there any better reason for thinking that Perikles’ first war speech (1.140-144) is authentic in the strong sense required for this version of the “common source” theory to work. So it will not do to ignore the authenticity problem completely. One might however try to take a compromise view. It is certainly possible that Thucydides incorporated some of Perikles’ more memorable phrases into his

370

SIMON HORNBLOWER

text.” “Such striking phrases lived on in the memory of educated people””

and could explain why they surface again in the O.O. But though this may dispose of some of the catchier expressions like “if we were islanders”, there is still a problem if we accept, with Leduc, that there is a sustained similarity between the strategic analyses of Thucydides’ Perikles and of O.O., whether or not

memorably

expressed

(and

not all the above

parallels

are verbally

striking) A variant of the “common

source” objection would be to claim that the

thought in question goes back to Herodotos, and that its afterlife is to be explained

primarily

as a piece

of Herodotean

rather than

Thucydidean

re-

ception.”” I have already acknowledged that this line of explanation may help to explain eunomia at O.O. 1.9, and it may also have a bearing on my first and more important example, “freedom or rule over others”. This powerful and

dangerous thought also occurs in Herodotos, Plato’s Gorgias, and Polybios.?° Is this evidence that the conjunction of the two concepts (freedom, rule over others) was a mere commonplace? On the contrary, I would say that Plato in

the Gorgias is engaged in a running argument with Thucydides (a view I hope to argue elsewhere) and that Plato has the Thucydides passage specifically in mind. As for Herodotos,

I have no difficulty with the idea that the idea of

freedom as rule over others was passed on from Herodotos to Thucydides; in other words it can be added to the already long list of items which Thucydides

got from Herodotos.?' But though the content of the idea may be traceable from Herodotos through to Polybios,” the versions of Thucydides and O.O., both short, snappy and easily reduceable

to just four words

of quotation,

are I

suggest closer to each other than either is to the more leisurely and roundabout versions of Herodotos or Plato; so that it is plausible to posit a direct relation.

In any case the force of the list of Thucydides/O. O. parallels is cumulative, and Herodotos is not relevant to those of them which seem directly to conjure up the Pentekontaetia or the Peloponnesian War. A final objection

to my

view would

be that on certain basic issues, for

instance, the class struggle, the outlooks of Thucydides and the O.O. are very different.’

So be it; all I need to show, or render probable, is that the O. O. was

aware of Thucydides’ History. I do not need to demonstrate coincidence of political outlook.

The normal view is that Thucydides knew of the O.O. and was replying to it. This view has the great authority of Momigliano, who argued that Thucydides,

especially in his early chapters on sea-power, knew of and was

responding to O.O.% On the relation between sea-power

question,

the

fullest

study

is a

O.O. and Thucydides on the 1962

article

by Jacqueline

de

Romilly,’”’ who accepted similarities of detail, but concluded that the two works

THE OLD OLIGARCH

371

were different in tone as indeed they are, and that O.O. does not breathe a war-time atmosphere, a point I shall come back to. Like Frisch,” then, she dates O.O. before the start of the Peloponnesian War, because she thinks O. Ὁ.

dates from need not similarities parallel in

a time of peace. (Note that at 3.2 ὁ πόλεμος with the definite article refer to a particular war). I said above that she accepts close of detail, but in fact she does not in the article mention the first my list above i.e. “freedom or rule over others”. The “freedom”

parallel does

however feature glancingly and for a different purpose

in de

Romilly’s book on Thucydides and Athenian Imperialism.”’ In neither place does she directly address the question whether Thucydides specifically knew the O.O.; her position, roughly, is that talk of sea-power was in the air, which I

take to mean she thinks both men were drawing on a common fund of phrases and concepts.

The strong or Momigliano view of the relationship between the two texts seems to me wholly implausible. By assuming that Thucydides went out of his way to reply to O.O. it attributes very considerable importance to an awkwardly written and badly organised pamphlet which no other contemporary writer quotes or shows knowledge of: it is mentioned by no-one before Demetrios of Magnesia in the time of Cicero (Diog. Laert. 2.57), and there are no papyrus fragments. We should not easily accept that a minor work with no immediate future in front of it should have influenced the greatest work of its

age; that the molehill should have moved the mountain. I am not saying that Thucydides thought nobody worth a reply; he famously disparages Hellanikos at 1.97, and I have argued elsewhere that there are 139 distinct Thucydides

passages which show specific knowledge of Herodotos.** We can add that, rather surprisingly, Thucydides puts Euripides right on a point of fact: I refer to 6.16, where Thucydides makes Alkibiades say that his chariots came first,

second and fourth in the 416 BC Olympic Games, whereas Euripides’ epinikian, quoted by Plutarch at Nicias 11, says they came first second and third. I agree with Dover (commentary ad loc.) that this is explicit correction. But I do not think that O.O. is in the Hellanikos/Herodotos/Euripides class. However, as with the agnostic position already mentioned, disproof is not to be had. Let us however consider the third and remaining possibility. There would surely (Thucydidean composition problems apart, on which I shall say more below) be powerful attractions in the idea that the treatise was the work of someone who knew his Thucydides well. That is, Thucydides was not responding to O.O., the O.O. was recycling Thucydides, the major work affected the minor not the other way round. Why has nobody argued for this?

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SIMON HORNBLOWER

Answer, because there are, or have been assumed to be, two objections to this

view of the intertextual relationship between the two works. The first and biggest objection to any such account of the relationship as I have offered is that on the usual view Thucydides’ history was not available before the end of the whole Peloponnesian War, and nobody (since at least E.

Belot in 1880,” and until the present paper) has put forward so late a date for the O.O. as post-404, when the empire presupposed by the O.O. had ceased to exist. This then is the dilemma: Thucydides (see 2.65 and 6.15) was clearly and explicitly aware of the end of the war and of the end of the Athenian

Empire.

Therefore

if the

O.O.

was

later than

because

derivative

from

Thucydides, the O.O. was also a fornori writing after the end of the Empire. But (and this is the other horn of the dilemma)

the treatise at many points

assumes the existence of the Empire (see esp. O.O.

1.14 and 3.5, but really,

passim). So the Empire both did, and did not, still exist for the O.O. Which is

logically impossible. How to resolve the dilemma? My answer will be that the O.O. is located in the imaginary past; the fairly recent past but still the past. That

is, we

must

make

an

elementary

distinction

between

the

imperial

situation which O.O. presupposes, and the non-imperial date at which it was

actually written or spoken. (To return briefly to Thucydides’ composition date, I would add that in my view the material about Archelaos of Makedonia 2.100 virtually compels

a terminal date later than 399, the known

at

date of

Archelaos’ death. This means that the O.O. is later still).

The second objection has to do with the reception of Thucydides. I suspect that an unspoken assumption which has made scholars resistant to the order

Thucydides - O. O. is the traditional view, held by e.g. Gomme and Luschnat, that Thucydides virtually disappeared from sight between Philistos and Cicero, being thought too difficult and rebarbative to have exerted influence. I believe this view to be false, and for reasons of space I hope I may refer for a full refutation to my article on the fourth-century BC and Hellenistic reception of Thucydides (n. 7 above). I there tried to show that, contrary to the orthodoxy,

Thucydides was fairly widely read and known in the fourth century, and not just by the likes of Kallisthenes

and

Praxiphanes

of Mytilene

but by less

obviously intellectual figures such as Aineias the Tactician. My

solution

then, which

I shall amplify, is that an early fourth-century

author familiar with Thucydides could, for purposes of argument (see further below for a suggested context), imagine himself back in the arrogant world of the Athenian

Empire.

That

in short is how

I explain the correspondences

between O.O. and Thucydides.

Is there any alternative? Yes there is. I deliberately wrote

a moment ago as

if there was such a thing as definite publication date for Thucydides

and I

THE OLD OLIGARCH

373

implied that once we have fixed his last mentioned event to 404 or 399 or whenever, we have established a date earlier than which nobody could have

been aware of anything he said. But this is (it may well be objected) an unsophisticated position. We might, especially if we notice that most of the parallels I have listed are with the early books of Thucydides, wish to escape from so rigid a notion of “publication”. Some of Thucydides’ own work, particularly the early books, could have been issued, to a limited and elite public, some years before 404. Certain memorable phrases or thoughts could thus have got into circulation, for re-cycling by the O. O. This is an interesting possibility, which would just allow us to retain a fifth-century date for the O.O., I mean a date for its composition as well as for its dramatic setting. But this semi-oral view of Thucydides, as — at least in the first stage of composition -a reciter not too different from Herodotos,

is itself unorthodox; so to avoid

piling up heresies let us assume that Thucydides’ History was given to the world at one go, in perhaps the 390s. If my argument so far is accepted we have a date for O.O. in or after the 390s. Not much

later, surely; elaborate linguistic analyses

(see Frisch’s in-

troduction)“ have shown affinities with literary texts of the later fifth century,

such as the Hippokratic corpus (some of which is however fourth-century rather than fifth). An enormous amount could be said, and I have not room to

say it, about the style of the O.O., which is essentially Attic Greek with some Ionisms like θαλασσοκράτορες at 2.2 or ἄσσα for ἅτινα at 2.17. I would say only

two things. First, the pull of the assumed fifth-century date has been very strong. Thus the unusual and early form of the comparative of ὀλίγος, “few”,

namely ὀλείζους, occurs at 2.1 and was regarded by Max Treu as a compelling argument for a fifth-century date.*’ The word is however merely Wilamowitz’s ingenious emendation for the mss. μείζους, which certainly gives the wrong sense and must be replaced by something with the contrary sense; but it is surely bad method to use an emendation to support an argument for dating. The second point is more important. The appearance or non-appearance of devices like homototeleuton can be argued about; and scholars disagree about whether

our author uses only the “strung-together style”, λέξις eipouévn, or whether there are traces of periodic structure, λέξις κατεστραμμένῃ — as if Lysias were not capable of using both in the same speech! Gomme was surely right to refuse to let all this pin us down as to date. Gomme

(above n. 17) started his

essay by sarcastically listing the contradictory views held on the subject in modern times, quote “Its style betrays simply the uneducated man” (one view) or, “it can be given its place in the orderly development of Attic Kunstprosa” (another view). Actually Gomme’s

own view comes nearer the first of these

views, because he says at p. 60f. “it is usual to attribute both the looseness of

374

SIMON HORNBLOWER

structure — the poor logical order — and the inelegant style to the fact that this is so early an example of Attic prose: we must not [we are told] expect the orderly arrangement of material nor the developed style that was the result of the sophists’

labours”.

But,

Gomme

protests, why

is there not an orderly

arrangement of material? Essentially Gomme’s position, with which I agree, is that “our author could not manage this [i.e. structural sophistication], and did not care to try, and the reason is not his date, nor because he was writing prose and not verse, Attic and not Ionic, but because he was not the man to do it”.

This I suggest applies across the board, and Gomme is right to conclude that O.O.’s style is peculiar to himself. “Crude” and “chaotic” do not equal “early”, and the absence of a Gorgianic feature surely does not entail “earlier than

Gorgias” or I suspect one could end up “proving” that Henry James wrote before Jane Austen. It is salutary to recall Herodes Περὶ πολιτείας, which some good students of Greek prose style have put 400 BC, others in the second century AD (above p. 365).

My final task in this section is to suggest a particular date, bearing in mind the stress on the imperial aspect of the Athenian pokzeta, using that word in its

Thucydidean and Demosthenic*? sense of “way of life” rather than narrowly “constitution”.” If we ask, when in the early fourth century a treatment of the old fifth-century democracy and empire might have been specially attractive and topical, there is an obvious answer:

Athenian

Confederacy was formed

Athenian

pamphleteers

were

looking

the period just before the Second

in 378/7

BC.

defensively

That was

a time when

or critically at their own

imperial past. I think above all of Isokrates’ Panegyricus of 380 BC, which has often been seen as a manifesto for the new confederacy. With its general tone

compare O.O. 1.1 with its reference to Greek criticism of Athens -- not something which bothered the fifth-century Athenians much. Like O.O. (2.9 and 3.2), the Panegyncus talks about the extraordinary number of Athenian

festivals, thus Isokrates (4.46) says that Athens is just one great big panegyris; like O.O. the Panegyricus boasts of the Peiraieus as a market for the world’s luxuries, 4.42, which the Loeb ed. compares to Perikles at Thucydides 2.38.2

but O.O. 2.7 would have been just as apposite. 380 then is my preferred date, but 393 or so, the brief revived imperialism of Thrasyboulos, would also just

be possible, the time when, as the Thebans in Xenophon say (Hell. 3. 5.10) “everyone knows that you Athenians want to get back the empire you once had”. This too was a period of lively debate about the fifth-century past, as

evidenced by the “Theramenes papyrus” published in 1968,“ or Andokides’ De Pace with its reference to the material perquisites of empire which the Athenians are said to want to recover (3.15). But that was a flash in the pan, whereas

380-377

inaugurated a more sustained and successful imperialistic

THE OLD OLIGARCH

375

revival and is moreover a period when we know from Isokrates that the old empire was put in the dock for criminal cross-examination by intellectuals. (Isokrates himself defends fifth-century atrocities like Melos

and Skione by

asserting their rarity, 4.100). We can be sure, from the negative pledges in the inscription known as the Charter of the Second Athenian Confederacy (Tod,

GHI 123), that the kinds of behaviour described in the O.O. (above all the legal abuses) were under conscience-stricken review about 380 BC. Sea-power was also under review at that ime, see Momigliano (above, n. 34, at his p. 61)

on Isokrates’ Panegyricus, the work I mentioned a moment ago. I return here briefly to de Romilly, and observe that in the run-up to 380 Athens was not actually at war, so her point about the atmospheric divergence

between O.O. and Thucydides, if right, falls neatly into place. There

are incidental

advantages

to my

late date for the treatise.

Some

passages make better sense if thought in the fourth century not the fifth.‘ Take for instance the statement (2.18) that the Athenians do not allow the demos

itself, as opposed to individual fat cat politicians, to be mocked in comedy. There is indeed some evidence for censorship of comedy in e.g. 440-437 and 415, and Jeffery Henderson has recently made sense of the O. O.’s remarks in fifth-century terms.

But the closest parallel to O.O.

2.18, though

with a

different slant, is again in Isokrates, this time from a pamphlet of the 350s, his

De Pace 8.14: “although this is a free government, there is no freedom of speech except that which is enjoyed in the Assembly by the most reckless orators, and in the theatre by the comic poets”. As a statement about the 350s this is simply bizarre; Isokrates is still I suggest in a kind of fifth-century timewarp, note 8.6 with its very Andokidean reference to getting back the power

we once enjoyed, i.e. under the fifth-century Delian League. I suggest that both O.O. and Isokrates derived their knowledge of old comedy from reading it as literature of the past; note the rather literary flavour of O.O.’s generalizing

remark “for the most part very few poor men or democrats appear in comedy”. This seems to me rather in the manner of Aristotle’s Poenca (1450) on old comedy

as political, rather than rhetorical like that of the fourth century.

I

ought in fairness to point out that David Lewis’ solution to the puzzle about this anachronism in Isokrates is “I can’t believe that anything got Isokrates to

a comedy much after the age of 25”! (the De Pace was written when he was in

his 80s).* But even on that view Isokrates has got the fifth century in mind, as he

certainly

has

elsewhere

in the

De

Pace,

see

e.g.

paragraph

82,

much

exploited by scholars like Goldhili,* which described the display of tribute at the City Dionysia. To return to the O.O., it is then not too surprising that when

he

departed

from

Thucydides,

he

came

up

Incidentally, it should not worry us that that the O.O.

with

some

oddities.

contains some non-

376

SIMON HORNBLOWER

Thucydidean material alongside the Thucydidean. Some of the topics dealt with are simply not the kind of thing that Thucydides wrote about (for instance, the reference to comedy at O.O. 2.18

itself comes

into that category).

There are other items which are indeed the sort of thing Thucydides might

have included but did not, for instance the allusions to Athenian support of Milesian oligarchs at 3.11. This could be from (e.g.) Hellanikos: I do not need to show that O.O. went to Thucydides for everything. One imperial section demands

a word, the material at O.O.

3.5-7 about

tribute reassessment. ©. O. says assessments usually took place every four years, and is the only author to tell us this fact, which inscriptions however confirm.” How

did O.O.

know

century author? My

this, it may be objected, unless he really was a fifthanswer would be this: O.O. is specially knowledgeable

about and interested in festivals, perhaps picking up a paragraph of Thucydi-

des’ Funeral Oration (2.38), and what I suggest he knows here is not so much the four-year interval itself as the fact that assessments took place at the time of the quadrennial Great Panathenaia, which they did. But I would not in fact want

to rule

out

epigraphic

knowledge

by

our

author.

For

instance

the

reassessment of 425, the famous Thoudippos decree mentions the system of

adjudication, diadikasia, which

O.O.

also talks about (3.6). Epigraphic

awareness is more a fourth- than a fifth-century phenomenon. I note finally that the rather unusual word Ayperona at 1.19, referring to overseas territory owned by Athenians, is of great interest. Thucydides does not mention

the phenomenon,

but the odious

practice of cultivating land

outside Attika, in defiance of local rules about land-owning, was one of the grievances abjured in 377. Now it is true that the word, though exceedingly

rare before the fourth century, is found, in an ordinary and innocuous sense just meaning “abroad”, in Thucydides (once only) and in a fifth-century decree, the proxeny decree for Leonidas of Halikarnassos;’' but there is a more loaded use (illegitimate overseas territorial possessions) in Andokides’ De Pace

of the late 390s. Did O. O. have this in mind? If so, we have another argument for a fourth-century date. (On O.O. and Andokides 3 see also above ἢ. 22).

Part Two: did the O.O. belong to the genre of sympotic literature? I come now to the sympotic part of my paper. I emphasise that it is detachable from my part one, that is, the part concerned with dating, and indeed could be true even on a fifth-century date; my main aim has been to throw doubt on the usual literal-minded approach to the dating of the O.O. and on the usual view

of its relationship to Thucydides.

THE OLD OLIGARCH

377

I said near the beginning of this paper (above p. 366) that I am tempted to

a sympotic interpretation of the O.O. by recent work on the symposion. But there is nothing new under the sun, and in fact the view that the O.O. is a sympotic work goes back to Ernst Kalinka’s very full German commentary of

1913.

Kalinka

advanced

his view cautiously; he thought that if O.O.

originated in a sympotic context it may have undergone revision and one can easily agree with that. If I suggest that the O. O. belongs to the genre known as

sympotic literature, I am not thereby implying that it was actually performed in a real symposion; the genre of sympotic literature (for which see Murray,

below n. 58) could include imaginary or purely literary productions, but there is no doubt that such a genre existed. The surprising thing these days, when virtually no sympotic stone has been left unturned, is that as far as 1 am aware nobody has re-examined Kalinka’s suggestion. Part of the reason may be its dismissal by Frisch in his edition of 1942 (“This perverted theory of Kalinka’s,

which

unfortunately disfigures his excellent large commentary,

found no

followers”).*’ Kalinka’s view was advanced on general grounds to do with the nature of the treatise which he saw as emanating in an oligarchic hetaireia or club, the rude word for which was xynomosia; from this it was a natural step to the sympotic

suggestion, because

the symposion

was the social glue of the

hetaireta. But Kalinka did add an argument from the second persons singular

and plural, which he evidently thought indicated a real or dramatic confrontation or agon between two debaters. See most strikingly 1.8, “what you think of as not proper eunomia”, ὃ γὰρ σὺ νομίζεις οὐκ εὐνομεῖσθαι. (Forrest and others

have also thought the O.O. was part of a real debate). Frisch dismissed this argument on the grounds that the second person can be used in argumentative contexts without a real interlocutor, and he adduced examples. Let that be so;

the second persons are at least consistent with a real or imaginary agon.” Kalinka by the way would have preferred second persons plural to singular, but Angus Bowie has recently shown that a two-person symposton was possible; he

cites Plutarch’s Amzonius.* But in any case Frisch ignored Kalinka’s main point which had to do with the social and political milieu in which the treatise is likely to have emerged. True, the idea that the O.O. was sympotic is not self-evident if one looks at the content.

The

subject-matter

of sympotic

literature, we

are told by its

modern students, is usually appropriate to its social context, yet the O.O. does not,

it has

to be admitted,

go

on

about

food,

drink or sex. The

closest

approach in this line is the paragraph about luxuries at 2.7; if we remember Kalinka’s point that what we have may have been an adaptation of a more

context-specific original, it does not take much imagination to see how this

378

SIMON HORNBLOWER

paragraph could represent what survives of a gourmandizing list of goodies for

the table. Fish-cakes if not actual courtesans.” But just to look for food, drink and sex is to limit the sympotic genre unduly.

Symposta had other features as well. I list three. First the symposion was an occasion for riddles, γρῖφοι, and paradoxes. The fourth-century comic poet Anti-

phanes connects riddles and symposia explicitly. If we start from the maxim which Thucydides puts into the mouth of Alkibiades, that democracy is acknowledged folly (6.89.6), we shall have no difficulty with the idea that the survival and success of democracy is a riddle of a pretty basic and important sort, a riddle to which the O.O.’s author had perhaps undertaken to provide the

answer. A related feature of symposia is paradox; one thinks of the conclusion of Plato’s Symposium, where Sokrates is heard arguing that tragedy and comedy are one. It goes without saying that the O.O. is rich in political paradox.

Second, the symposion had a martial aspect, at least in the Archaic period

before the symposion lost its songfulness, as Martin West delightfully puts it.” I have already pointed out that there is a good deal about military matters in the second chapter of the O.O., though this is as we have seen compatible with a peace-time composition date. The third feature of the symposion is the political. Murray and others have

shown that the symposion was an instrument of aristocratic control in the Archaic period, and that it never forgot its origins completely; this makes it a very good fictional setting for a critique — real or ironic — of democracy. However, both Murray

and now

Angus

Bowie

insist, surely correctly,

that the

symposion was not always and not necessarily anti-democratic.” On my view (see above p. 364) the voice of O.O. is the voice of a democrat; if so he may be posing as an oligarch for the purposes of the symposion at which he is per-

forming, or rather (bearing in mind our distinction between real symposta and sympotic literature) at which he imagines himself to be performing, a symposion of democrats who have appropnated to their own purposes the forms of a onetime aristocratic institution (there are parallels for this sort of appropriation, e.g. in the sphere of cavalry service}. To conclude. Whether our author is a real oligarch, or a democrat adopting

an oligarchic persona, or just one of the Quiet Athenians whom L.B. Carter discussed in his book of that title,°' we cannot say. Nor, if I am right, do we need to worry about the passages which have been taken to show that the author was a non-Athenian or perhaps an Athenian exile writing outside Attika (a lot has been written about whether αὐτόθι at e.g. 1.2 has to mean “there” or whether it can mean “here”). Frisch thought the author a non-Athenian, Ste.

Croix an Athenian because of the first persons plural at 1.12.°° We can simply side-step that issue because if the author is Athenian but assuming a fictional

THE OLD OLIGARCH

379

persona it could just as well have been the persona of an outsider, a Gulliver

figure. However, the possibility of so radical an uncertainty reinforces my feeling that the literary identity of the O.O. is too slippery a question to be left to the ancient historians. What is called for is not Gomme

or Ste. Croix but

Umberto Eco - see his entertaining discussion of Alexandre Dumas’ The Three

Musketeers,” a novel which has d’Artagnan sauntering down a Paris street which did not exist until several decades after the date at which the novel is supposedly set. Whatever the truth about the author of the O.O. as opposed to his text, which is all we have, I suggest that his chosen medium of expression

— backward-looking and ludic — was appropriate to his frivolous fourth-century milieu, in the age of impudent forgery, spoof and invented tradition. What follows if I am right in this paper? Simply this, that historians should be wary of treating the O.O. as usable evidence for the fifth century. But it

becomes a valuable document about fourth-century attitudes to imperialism, and (as Oswyn Murray puts it to me) if I am right, the O.O. “joins the Menexenus in the ironic literature of nostalgia that tells us so much about fourth-

century attitudes”; and its interest for students of literature is if anything

thereby increased.“

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Lewis, D.M. 1997c. “Democratic Institutions and their Diffusion,” in Lewis (1997a) 5159. MacDowell, D. 1990. Demosthenes Against Meichas (Oxford). Mattingly, H.B. 1997. “The Date and Purpose of the Pseudo-Xenophon Constitution of Athens,” CQ 47: 352-357.

Merkelbach, ΒΕ. ἃ Youtie, H.C. 1968. “Ein Michigan-Papyrus über Theramenes,” ZPE 2: 161-169.

Momigliano, A. 1960. “Sea-Power in Greek Thought,” Secondo contributo alla storia degli studi classict (Rome) 57-67 (originally CR 58 [1944] 1-7). Murray, G. 1897. A History of Greek Literature (London). Murray, O. 1990. “The Affair of the Mysteries. Democracy and the Drinking Group,” in ©. Murray (ed.), Symponca. A Symposium on the Symposium (Oxford) 149-161. Nestle, W. 1948. Griechische Studien (Stuttgart). Ober, J. 1998. Pohrical Dissent m Democranc Athens. Intellectual Crincs of Popular Rule (Princeton). Pickard-Cambridge, A.W. 1988. Dramatic Festivals of Athens’, revised edition by D.M. Lewis & J. Gould (Oxford). Rhodes, P.J. 1992. “The Delian League to 449 B.C.,” CAH V’: 34-61. Roberts, J.T. 1994. Athens on Trial. The Anndemocranc Tradinon in Western Though: (Princeton). Robertson, N. 1978. “The Myth of the First Sacred War,” CQ 28: 38-73. Russell, D.A. 1983. Greek Declamanon (Oxford). Rutherford, R.B. 1995. The Art of Plato (London). Smart, J.D.

1977. “The Athenian Empire,” Phoenix 31: 245-257.

Ste Croix, G.E.M. de. 1972. The Origins of the Peloponnesian War (London). Treu, M. 1967. “Xenophon (D): Ps.-Xenophon Πολιτεία ᾿Αθηναίων," RE IXA2: 1982, Wade-Gery, H.T. 1958. Essays in Greek History (Oxford). Walbank, M. 1978. Athermian Proxeny Decrees of the Fifth Century BC (Toronto).

1928-

NOTES This paper was read to the lunchtime seminar in the Department of Greek and Latin, University College London, organized by Katerina Zacharia, on February 18, 1998. I am grateful to Dr Zacharia for forcing me to write the paper by taking my refusal to speak to her seminar as a “Yes”; and for her help subsequently. I also thank, for valuable comments at or after the paper, Maria Broggiato, Alan Griffiths, and Herwig Maehler. A year later, Oswyn Murray, Peter Rhodes and Glen Bowersock very generously commented on and much improved a final version and I am very grateful for this, but they should not be assumed to agree with my suggestions. This last qualificauon applies in particular to Glen Bowersock, who -- as he kindly tells me - would explain the parallels between Thucydides and the Old Okgarch, one of which at any rate he has described in the past as “striking”

(see below on the Old Okgarch

2.14 and Thuc.

1.143.5, “if we were

islanders”), in the way I have indicated in my text at p. 370 with n. 28: certain striking phrases of the historical Penkles were both picked up by Thucydides and lived on in educated people’s memories. For discussion of this point see below. On the other hand, Prof. Bowersock now tells

me that “a fourth-century date for the treatise seems to me entirely defensible if not provable”, and concludes by saying that he could “rest comfortably with a fourth-century date for the Old Okgarch but not because he read Thucydides or was contmibuting to a symposium”. See also n. x for Dr Murray's acute reflections on the implication of my approach.

382

SIMON HORNBLOWER

Roberts (1994) 52. The first numbered foomote of a paper often gives the bibliography to the subject. However, the literature on the Old Oligarch is enormous,

and I hope I may be allowed

merely to refer to the items listed after my own entry “Old Oligarch” in Hornblower & Spawforth (1996)

1063f., to which

add

Gigante

& Maddola

(1987).

Since

1996, there have been other

discussions of the Old Okgarch, notably Ober (1998) chapter LA, and a good article by Mattingly (1997), dating the treatise to 414, after the Hermokopid

affair of 415, see 3.5, but before the

fortification of Dekeleia in 413 and its consequences (2.14-16) and attributing it to an allied oligarch. To take this argument on its own terms, the non-mention of Dekeleia is not decisive; Atoka was ravaged after 413, indeed worse ravaged (Hell. Oxy. 20 [Chambers}}. Mattingly cites other recent works, e.g. Fontana (1968), dating the treatise to 410-406. Other dates: Lang (1972) 165-169 (430s: Kleon is the author, and Perikles’ Funeral Speech is a reply); Leduc (1976) 200ff. (421-418); Smart (1977) 250 and n. 12 (dating O. O. τὸ 405). I have not yet seen Lapini (1997).

Om ys

The first point hardly needs exemplifying; for Thucydides see e.g. Hansen & Christensen (1983) [also in Hansen (1989) 195-209, with addenda at 210f.]; and Hansen (1993) 161-180. Bowersock (1968) 463 n. 1. Murray used the nickname

in Murray (1897)

167-169.

Cartledge (1997) 10. Wade-Gery, “Kritias and Herodes,” in Wade-Gery (1958) 271-292; but see Russell (1983) 111. Boeckh (1886) 3899f., the long note (Ὁ); he was not alone, see the references in Treu (1967) 1960. Hornblower (1995) 50 n. 16, and in Hornblower & Spawforth (1996) entry on “Old Oligarch”.

Rutherford (1995). I am here indebted to a paper on “Serious comedy” read by Michael Suk in London in autumn 1997. Including my own past self, see Hornblower & Greenstock (1984), a translated sourcebook which includes a number of O.O. passages, treated as straight evidence for the fifth century.

Hobsbawm & Ranger (1983). Habicht (1961); Davies (1994), discussing the more extreme view of Robertson (1978); Grafton (1990). Alan Griffiths reminds me that the fourth century is also the period when the novel begins to be born, and that many of those are set back in the Classical period too, such as the Metiochos-

Parthenope romance about goings-on at the court of Polykrates of Samos. Coventry (1989). See Murray

(1990).

Bowersock (1966), also (1968), introducuon to ©, O. (But sec end of asterisked introductory note above).

See Hornblower (1991) 192f., first note on 1.117.3 Cited and rightly rejected by Gomme

(1959) 50, 581.

Nestle (1948) 387-402. See Nestle (1948) 394-397 and Leduc (1976) 106 for particular parallels

19.

(but on Nestle’s p. 391 on ἀνάγκη, “necessity”, in O.0., see Treu [1967] 1961-1962). I have added a few items to Leduc’s table of parallels, to which however I am generally indebted. See below n. 25 for Leduc’s separation of chapters 1-2 from 3.

20.

Homblower

& Greenstock

(1984)

10If.; Hornblower

(1983)

29: the Athenian

Tribute

Lists

include the names of Karian dynasts like Pigres and Sambaktys, hardly democrats. For oligarchies in the Athenian empire, indirectly attested by Thucydides, see e.g. Hornblower (1991) 99 (Poteidaia), 192f. (Samos?}, 410 (Mytilene). But note on this whole topic the remarks of Lewis

21. 22.

(1997c) 56: crude talk of support of democracy may be unsophisticated; what mattered was “control of personnel”. For ἃ succinct account see Rhodes (1992) 58f.; see the detailed study of Gehrke (1980). On the 400 trierarchs of O.O. 3.4 see my comm. on Thuc. 2.13.8 (Hornblower [1991]): Thucydides there has the figure 300. It is true that this is his figure for triremes rather than trierarchs; but it is clear that O.O. did not simply lift his figure from Thucydides. So where did O.O. get his figure from? I note that Andoc. 3.9 has 400 ships; this is usually emended to 300 in

order to make Andokides agree with Thucydides and Aeschin. 2.175. But if we decline to emend this historically very wayward text, we have further evidence for the possibility that O.O. was aware of Andoc. 3 (see below p. 376) and thus further evidence for a late date for Ὁ. O.

THE OLD OLIGARCH

23, 24.

383

So Treu (1967) 1980. Leduc (1976) 106 & 146 (the analysis of strategies is so close it is from the same source). Kalinka

(1913) 233 had already suggested that the common source for “if we were islanders” might be Perikles; this was rejected by Frisch (1942) 273f.

25.

Leduc (1976)

101. She thinks that chapter 3 of O.O. has no such obvious point of reference as

chapters 1 and 2, which she thinks recall the Funeral Oration of Perikles (or, as I would prefer to say, the Thucydidean Perikles; and we have seen that the Thucydidean narrative as well as speeches are drawn on, see above on Thuc. 2.14). In particular Leduc (1976) 220ff. thinks that the material about Boiotia, Miletos and Messenia (3.11) is (not from Thucydides but) derived from and a distortion of popular and erroneous tradition. On this section see above.

26.

See my commentary, Homblower

27.

Glen Bowersock would, as he kindly tells me, explain the Thucydides/O. O. parallels in this way.

(1991) 294-316, citing Loraux, Ziolkowski and others.

An example, as he points out to me, is the use of ἐραστάς, “lovers”, at Thuc. 2.43.1, for which see Ar. Eg. 732 (cf. my commentary on the Thucydides passage). 28. 29.

In Bowersock’s good expression (personal communication). Awareness of Herodotos on the part of O.O. is plausible enough; cf. Leduc (1976) 123, citing Gigante (1953) chapter V (esp. 96ff.) for the influence of Herodotos’ “Persian Debate” (Hdt.

3.80ff.) in particular. And emphatic position, “surely I agree with this, though position, at the beginning 30.

Alan Griffiths points out to me that ἀποδείξω at the end of 1.1, an echoes Herodotos’ ἀπόδεξις ἥδε right at the beginning of his work”, and we should not forget ἀπόδειξιν at Thuc. 1.97.1 (also in emphatic of the pentekontaetia narrative) and 2.13.9. |

Hdt, 1.210 ἀντὶ μὲν δούλων ἐποίησας ἐλευθέρους Πέρσας εἶναι, ἀντὶ δὲ ἄρχεσθαι ὑπ' ἄλλων ἄρχειν ἀπάντων, “you have made the Persians free men instead of slaves, and and instead of being ruled, ta be the rulers of all others”; Pl. Grg. 452d5, αἴτιον ἅμα μὲν ἐλευθερίας αὐτοῖς τοῖς ἀνθρώποις, ἅμα δὲ τοῦ ἄλλων ἄρχειν ἐν τῇ αὐτοῦ πόλει ἑκάστῳ, “a cause not only of freedom for mankind generally,

but also of rule over others by individual men in their own cities”, with Dodds’ note. “Powerful and dangerous”: the freedom in question is Isaiah Berlin’s positive sinister and imperialistic type of freedom, see Berlin (1969) 118-172. 31. 32.

See Hornblower (1996) 137-145 Whom

I do

not

need

to

consider

separately;

he

was

acquainted

with

Thucydides’

work

(Hornblower [1995]) - but also with that of Herodotos. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39.

Leduc (1976) 146. Momigliano (1960) esp. 59. de Romilly (1962). See Frisch (1942) 62. de Romilly (1963) 81. Hornblower (1996) 137-145 (Annex B to Introduction). I owe my knowledge of Belot to Leduc (1976) 29. Apparently Belot thought the O.O. was an open letter to Agesilaos and dated from 378. But his reasons seem to have been no more than the supposed parallels with late plays of Aristophanes (0, O. 2.16 is supposed to show knowledge of Lys. 34 [?], and the ban on comedy in O.O. refers to Ar. Eccl. 798-799 [?)). But in any case my own view is that the O.O. was written in the fourth century but is about the fifth century; I do not think it purports to describe the fourth-century Athenian empire.

40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45.

Frisch (1942) ch. 7. Treu (1967) 1977. For πολιτεία as meaning “way of life” see MacDowell (1990) note on paragraph 63. See Leduc (1976) 95ff. for an excellent discussion of literary politeiai.

See Merkelbach & Youtie (1968); Henrichs (1968); Andrewes (1970). Indeed, it is arguable that this is true of the treatise as a whole. Oswyn Murray puts it better than

I can, so I can only quote him in full: “I like your piece: though it is not capable of proof, it does put the O.O. into some sort of context, which it clearly lacks in the fifth century. The problem is of course that there isn’t any evidence for a possible literary context in the fifth century, so that is no real argument. To make the fifth-century case I suppose one could play around with the context of the Epidemiar of Ion of Chios; one might even try to imagine where a real Socratic

384

SIMON HORNBLOWER

dialogue would have taken place. But the positive strength of views like yours is that you are surely right to see the O.O. as distanced from the phenomena. This has been felt by many, and is what causes all the theories - foreignness, exile, disgruntled political persona, distancing in date. They all reflect what every reader feels - this is distanced, not immediate experience. So your theory and all others seem to rest on this common response, and in a curious way the agreement about the phenomenon may be more significant that disagreement about the explanation. Might you not say this somewhere?” 46.

Scholiast on Ar. Ach. 67 (tr. Fornara [1983] no. 111}; cf. Pickard-Cambridge (1988) select addenda at p. 364, section on political censorshp in the theatre. See now Canfora (1997) and Henderson (1998) 255-273 at 260-265. Lewis (1997b) 180f. (a paper written in 1956). Goldhill (1987) 60f. (101f. of the reprint). See Mattingly (1997) 352f. for this part of the treatise. Meiggs-Lewis, GHI no. 69. Walbank (1978) no. 22 and Thuc. 8.72 for neutral fifth-century uses of ὑπερόριος, but for the “loaded” use (specifically overseas terniorial possessions) see Andoc. 3.36 with 0.0. 1.19; the practice is abjured at Tod, GH/

123.35ff.

Kalinka (1913) 56f. Frisch (1942) 101. Forrest (1975) 44f., cf. ¢.g. Bonanno

(1982) and Leduc

(1976) 98. Maria Broggiato points out

to me that if there is a dialogue element to the O.O., that could favour the symposion-literature hypothesis, cf. e.g. Theognis 1153-1156 for picking up and reversing someone else’s theme. For the Ὁ. 0. as an agon see Leduc (1976) passim.

Bowie (1997) 5 and n. 31, citing Plut. Anr. 70. I here allude to Davidson (1996).

For “speaking riddles when drinking”, λέγειν γρίφους παρὰ πότον, see Antiphanes fr. 55 (K/A). See also Murray in Hornblower & Spawforth (1996) under “symposium literature” (note esp. his section 2 on prose sympotic works).

In Hornblower & Spawforth (1996) under “elegiac poetry, Greek”. Murray (1990) 150f.; cf. Bowie (1997) 3. Carter (1986). Ste. Croix (1972) 307-310, Eco, “The Strange Case of the Rue Servandoni,” in Eco (1995) chapter 5. Oswyn Murray draws my attention to Burckhardt’s claim that the forgery is more interesting than the genuine document.

Oligarchy and Oligarchs in Ancient Greece* MARTIN OSTWALD

It is one of the frustrations of the historian of ancient Greece that we know 80 little about the internal functioning of the Greek city-states in the Classical period. We

have, to be sure, plenty of information on the operation of the

Athenian democracy; still, we neither know how typical the Athenian model was for other democracies, nor how widespread democracy was elsewhere in the Greek world. The situation is considerably worse in the case of oligarchies. Even though it is possible that they were much more numerous in the Classical Greek world than democracies, the lack of coherent literary sources reduces

our knowledge to scraps, which have to be gleaned from stray remarks, often made

by hostile

Athenians.

It is remarkable,

for example,

that only

one

statement favorable to oligarchy has come down to us from Classical Greek antiquity. In view of that, it seems to me worth while to attempt to take stock of what

is known about oligarchy and of the place it occupied among other Greek constitutions. Much of the material I cite will be familiar, but some, I hope, will be novel enough to shed a new light on the problem.

The ancient Greeks attributed none of the three types of government which they identified and bequeathed to us — monarchy, oligarchy, and democracy — to one of the great lawgivers of the Archaic age. True enough, later generations would call Solon the “father of the democracy” realizing that without

his political and economic reforms the “democracy” they knew in the fifth and fourth centuries BC could never have come into being. But this label could only be attached in retrospect: there is not a speck of evidence that Solon himself or his contemporaries envisaged the system of government he created

at the dawn of sixth-century Athens as a democracy. The same can be said of Lykourgos: whatever his identity may have been and whatever contribution he may have made to the institutions of Sparta, it is a safe (though unprovable) assumption that it never occurred to him or his

contemporaries to equate his activities with the creation of a “mixed” government — what the Americans term “government of checks and balances” -to say nothing of “oligarchy”. What is true of the work of Solon and of Lykourgos

is a fortiori also true of all the other shadowy

lawgivers

of the

Archaic age of whom tradition has preserved the names, but precious little of

MARTIN OSTWALD

386

their activities: Zaleukos, who gave laws to the Epizephyrian Lokrians; Charondas of Katane; Onomakritos, active both in Crete and among the Lokrians; Korinthian Philolaos who gave the Thebans their laws; and many more. The achievement of all these lawgivers consists in the reorganization of societies that for a variety of reasons had ceased to function efficiently, and, therefore, had to be made

viable again by the creation of new,

or the re-

vitalization of older, institutions, and by regulating the relations and functions of citizens in a renovated system.' It goes without saying that their activities

were germane to the development of “oligarchy”, which is the main focus of my interest here; but it is equally true that they were more concerned with

establishing a harmonious balance between social classes by providing the economic and financial resources for meeting community needs, which would

guarantee a stable government, than with the problem whether the business of governing ought to be entrusted to one man, to a select few, or to the masses. Concern with problems of this sort cannot arise until different forms of government have unselfconsciously developed in different places, sufficiently to have taken each an identity of its own. Not until they compete with one another in some way and can be identified and compared to one another can distinct characteristics be applied to them: Odysseus’ admonition to the common soldiers before Troy: οὐκ ἀγαθὸν πολυκοιρανίη- εἷς κοίρανος ἔστω, εἷς βασιλεύς (Hom. Al. 2.204-205) is not a partisan-political principle: it does not envisage democracy as competing with monarchy, but is simply a particular

extemporaneous exhortation to rally the demoralized troops behind their commanders. Reflections on differences among political structures and the values embodied in each are not found before the fifth century, in Pindar (Pyth. 2.85-88) and in the so-called Consnirurional Debate in Herodotos (3.8082), and do not become ideologies until the 420s. The terms “democracy” and “oligarchy” are both first attested in Herodotos, and they assume political ideological overtones for the first known time in Thucydides’ account of the civil war in Korkyra. This does not mean that no oligarchies existed before the

middle of the fifth century: it means merely that the recognition of different types of régime necessarily lagged behind the existence of these types.

Our knowledge of oligarchies in ancient Greece is limited largely by two factors. In the first place, we depend too much on the literature produced in democratic Athens as our source, especially on the literature of the late fifth

and most of the fourth century BC. The result is that we encounter oligarchs primarily in polemical contexts: the two oligarchical régimes Athens experienced in 411

and in 404/3

BC

were hated because

of their violence,

and in

OLIGARCHY AND OLIGARCHS

IN ANCIENT GREECE

387

fourth-century rhetoric the nature of oligarchy was all too frequently distorted by those who equated democracy with “liberty”. A second limitation is that we are captives of our own conceptual framework: regardless of where we live in the modern world, we think of political life as consisting in tensions and competition between organized political parties,

each with its own agenda, its own ideology, and its own registered membership, and we tend to apply these categories to our analysis of ancient societies.

This leads us, more often than not, to a distorted view of political life in Greek antiquity. When we speak of a “conservative” or a “liberal” or a “communist” or a “Christian democrat”, we mean, as a rule, a person whose ideological con-

victions make him vote organized political party, and political outlook; his will cast his vote in favor

for — perhaps even join and pay dues to -- a given which consists of persons who share his basic sociai political behavior is predictable to the extent that he of measures and agenda worked out in cooperation

with like-minded party-members, and he will work for the election of public

officials approved by them. To the best of my knowledge, there is nothing analogous in the political life of ancient Greece. The Greek words that best render the political opposites “oligarch” or “democrat” — ὀλιγαρχικός and δημοκρατικόςἶ — are not found before

the end

oligarchy

and

of the fifth century, democracy

the

time

when

to

take

on

first began

the contrast ideological

between

dimensions:

"OAıyapxırdc when first found in Thucydides’ and Ps.-Andokides,* refers to the

régime

minating

established statement

in 411.

that

“no

Δημοκρατικός human

being

first appears

in Lysias’

is by

oligarchical

nature

illuor

democratic, but whatever constitution brings advantage to an individual is the one he would like to see established”.* This means that, although differences

between these two forms of government are likely to have been perceived much earlier in the fifth century, they had not yet been transformed into the kind of

ideology that proved to be so divisive internally in the Greek cities from the late fifth cenrury on. What is more, the Lysias passage shows that ideology is not yet regarded as a matter of political principle but of convenience: men are not oligarchical

or democratic

“by

nature”

(φύσει),

but

on

the basis

of their

personal social and economic interest. A similar sentiment underlies Perikles’

definition of “democracy” in the Funeral Oration: “the name of our form of government is ‘democracy’, because its administration is geared not to the interest of the few but of the majority”.° Taking for the moment the yardstick of Lincoln’s definition of “democracy” as “government of the people, for the people, by the people”, it is only government “for” the people that is envisaged here; and it is perhaps not a bold step to extend this yardstick even to “oligarchy” as “government in the interest of the few”.

388

MARTIN OSTWALD

This absence of political principle is in itself sufficient to show that parties in our sense of the word did not exist, and we know of no organization -- except perhaps for the étaipeia: which paved the way for the Athenian oligarchies of

411 and 404/3, but which were banned by law in the fourth century -- that might have served as the kind of organizations that modern parties are. The politics of Athens in the fifth century were dominated by individuals described as

προστάται

tov

δήμου

or προστάται

τῶν

γνωρίμων

(or:

τῶν

εὐπόρων)

—

“champions of the people” and “champions of the well-known (or well-todo)”, who claimed to represent the interests of what we should call the “lower”

or “upper” classes, respectively, and whose following and political success would depend on their ability to persuade their fellow-citizens on any given issue. Thus, ideological oligarchs — or democrats, for that matter— are in origin not a historical reality in ancient

Greece;’

they first appear

as the product

of

theoretical and philosophical studies of politics fostered by Plato and Aristotle. Here Aristotle’s careful analyses are more conducive to an understanding of

what an “oligarch” and “oligarchy” are historically than Plato’s prejudiced polemics. By and large, Plato seems to despise oligarchy only a little less than he despises democracy: in the Leges (832C) and in the Epistula 7 (326D) it is no more worthy of being called a proper constitution (πολιτεία) than a tyranny or a democracy;®

elsewhere

it is a form

of government

that produces

civil

discord (otéo1c),” because it rankles the poor that wealth is the only criterion for power (Respublica 551D, 552B); qualification for public office is determined by the amount of wealth a person owns (ἀπὸ τιμημάτων) 551A-B,

Plato’s

553A); adherence to law means

characterization

of oligarchy

(bid. 550C-D,

little (Polincus 301A). Along with

as a form

of government

goes

his

description of the individuals who are its citizens: they are money-grubbing and greedy (Respublica 548A, 555B, D), and are as reluctant as people of that kind

usually

are

to pay

their taxes

(Respublica

551E).

Pointed

though

these

judgments may be morally and philosophically, they are of limited use to a historian

in that they

are

too

one-sided

to enable

us to attach

the

label

“oligarchy” to any specific Greek states. Only one passage in the entire Corpus Platonicum helps us with that: Sokrates’ description of the rule of the Thirty as an ὀλιγαρχία

(Apologia 32C).

We

also get some

negative help from his ex-

clusion of the Cretan and Lakonian constitutions — wrongly described in many

modern 544C).

textbooks as oligarchical - from his list of oligarchies

(Respublica

It is different with Aristotle. Although he, too, is primarily concerned with theoretical issues of definition, he made a serious effort to base his theories on

empirical examinations

of the political structures of allegedly

158 actual

OLIGARCHY AND OLIGARCHS IN ANCIENT GREECE

389

states.!° This prevents him from quite losing sight of realities and from letting

criticism degenerate into polemics. For Aristotle as it was for Plato, oligarchy is one of the deviations from a well-constructed form of government and superior to democracy. Like Plato, too, he defines oligarchy as a government

by the wealthy,'' but he does not treat “wealth” merely as synonymous with “greed”. He refines Plato’s definition in ways that are rooted in historical reality and thus gives it a different and more profound edge than Plato had conceded to it. Very

few scholars have

noticed

how

novel

(and perhaps

revolutionary)

Aristotle’s treatment of oligarchy is. All too few translators of Aristotle’s Politics have noted the fact that, in following Plato in defining oligarchy as government by the wealthy, Aristotle describes the ruling class more commonly as εὔποροι

than as πλούσιοι. The difference between the two terms is significant. While πλούσιος denotes merely great wealth, εὔπορος is properly rendered as “well-todo”, or even better “well-provided with resources”. What underlies the difference is best understood by reference to Aristotle’s exclusion from citizenship

in his ideal state of ἃ βάναυσος, a person who lives off the work of his own hands (Pol. 1277a37-b1), on the grounds that the exercise of citizenship is possible only for those “who have no need to work for a living”.'? In other words, to be a citizen — and here we have to remember that the idea of including women,

children, resident aliens, and slaves never occurred to any

responsible politician in antiquity — a person must be equipped with at least the necessities of life in order to have the leisure required for functioning as a citizen (Pol. 1273a35-36; cf. 1273b6-7), because there existed no public re-

muneration for public service. A person had to be εὔπορος, “well-provided with resources” of his own in order to serve the state in a military or civic capacity. This is precisely the reason why Perikles introduced pay for jury duty: the administration of justice could not function democratically without enabling

the ἄποροι, “the indigent” who were “not provided with resources”, with an allowance that would enable them to take at least one day off for jury duty without jeopardizing their own well-being and that of their families. In military terms, it explains why originally the lower classes were barred from military service in Athens, because they could not provide their own arms; and why the

growth of democracy was fostered by the need to enlist into paid naval service those who did not have the means to provide their own armour. It is clear from this that εὔποροι are needed in a democracy just as much as they are in an oligarchy: a democracy, too, requires people who are economically sufficiently well-to-do to be able to devote, from time to time, all their energies to a year’s public service. Aristotle gives no explicit answer how

a

democracy solves this problem. But an answer can, I believe, be inferred from

390

MARTIN OSTWALD

what he does say: while an oligarchy tends to give ἄποροι no share in the management of public affairs at all, democracy recognizes them as members

of the political community at least in the sense that it gives them the right to vote in a general assembly and to elect public officials; in the case of Athens, it also let them very actively participate in the judicial process by giving them a day’s minimum pay in order to relieve their ἀπορία temporarily. If this inference is correct, Aristotle’s definition of “oligarchy” as “govern-

ment by those who have the resources” to undertake public service seems to come closer to historical realities than Plato’s “government by the rich”. No government would proudly proclaim as its aim that it wants to make the nch richer, even if that is, in effect, the result of its policies. It is of course true that a rich man, a πλούσιος, will automatically be εὔπορος

and thus a citizen in a fuller sense in an oligarchy than an ἄπορος will be. It is equally obvious that some εὔποροι are more affluent than others. Do the more

affluent εὔποροι enjoy greater privileges in an oligarchy than less affluent do? There

are indications

that an

oligarchy

required

greater

assets

as a pre-

condition for eligibility for office than for ordinary citizenship.'? How εὔπορος did a citizen in an oligarchy have to be in order to qualify for office? The degree of a person’s εὐπορία depends on the size of his property, and among the

Greek terms usually translated as “property” into modern languages — κτῆμα, κτῆσις, οὐσία — it was almost certainly οὐσία, the income-producing kind which consisted chiefly, but not exclusively, in land, that was used as the standard of wealth. The size of a citizen’s assets determined the degree of his participation in an oligarchy. On them was based the right to vote in legislative matters in

the assembly, to participate in the election of magistrates, and to be eligible for office. Neither Aristotle nor any other ancient author answers a number of practical

historical problems that present themselves to us: how was the value of a person’s (or a family’s) property ascertained? Who

was entrusted with con-

ducting its assessment? And how were records - if any — kept and, if necessary, adjusted from time to time? Here some more or less general considerations

may be helpful. Citizenship was commonly expressed in the Greek states by the phrase τῆς πολιτείας μετέχειν, “to have a share in the state”. It thus expressed membership rather than a set of “rights”, as it does in modern Western countries. '* The extent of that share was commonly determined by the amount of property a person owned. A minimum was usually required for participation in the Assembly,

the public

meetings

of the community;

while

important the office the larger the property required for eligibility.

the more A property

valuation called tiunua'° established the size ofa person’s property, and on its

basis the extent of his share in the community was determined. Although the

OLIGARCHY AND OLIGARCHS IN ANCIENT GREECE

391

τίμημα was most widely used in oligarchies,'* our most detailed knowledge derives from the role it played in Athens, and, lacking more explicit evidence,

we need it to infer from it what oligarchical procedure may have been. Property valuation (τίμημα) is said to have been used by Solon as the basis for dividing the citizen population

into four property classes

(τέλη), but it

probably originated before Solon.’’ When it started and how it was conducted is veiled in the mists of history. Probability favors some time in the eighth and seventh centuries BC for the inception of valuation, because this is believed to be the time when the public burdens so far borne by aristocrats devolved on society as a whole, especially on the upper classes.'* The theory that the as-

sessment was instituted to determine the contribution expected from wealthy citizens to defray public expenditures might explain the importance it assumed in oligarchies in Classical times. By the fourth century, the valuation was in

some Greek states institutionalized by law;'” the valuating (tiunoıc) was in Athens probably done by the property owners themselves every few years,” and was subsequently entered into a public register.” Solon, as we saw, used the τιμήματα to divide the citizenry into four classes,

called τέλη, to determine the liability of each class to service to the com-

munity,-- presumably because, in the absence of a paid civil service, those who had a sufficient income not to have to work for a living were expected to give of their time and energy to the state. Just as in Athens only members of the

highest τέλος, the pentakosiomedimnoi, were called upon to serve as archons or

treasurers,” high property valuations were a fortiori a prerequisite for high office also in oligarchies.?* What is interesting about Solon’s reforms is that he gave membership requirement:

in the state to one τέλος, the lowest, that had no property

as a result all free-born male

adults, propertied or not, were

admitted to citizenship.”” The fact that the thetes counted as a τέλος even though

they

had

no

assessable

property”

enabled

them

to exercise

the

franchise and man the people’s court. That they were given a share in the community

as early as Solon

was

an important

element

in the later de-

velopment of democracy. Oligarchies required moderate valuations even for the franchise.?’ We do not know

to what extent τέλη based on property valuations were used outside

Athens and especially how they might have been used in oligarchies to define the contributions to the community expected from their members, nor do we have explicit information how assessments were made and registered. But it is a fair assumption that, as in Athens, they will have defined the status of a given

citizen in terms of the services the state expected from him. The more εὔπορος a citizen was in an oligarchy, the higher the office to which he could aspire. But Aristotle

leaves

no

doubt

of the

crucial

role

property,

especially

landed

392

MARTIN OSTWALD

property (οὐσία) played in characterizing a given régime as an oligarchy: “an

oligarchy exists when the owners of estates control the constitutional authority in the state;

a democracy, conversely, when the indigent (ἄποροι) who do not

own a sizable estate are in control”.”* Considerations of majority rule are not important: ancient Kolophon is defined as an oligarchy, despite the fact that the

owners

of large

estates

constituted

the

majority

of its citizens

(Pol.

1290b15-17), before their defeat by the Lydians.”” Ownership of a moderate and sufficient amount of property (οὐσίαν μέσην καὶ ἱκανήν) (Pol. 1295b39-40)

provides the basis for citizenship in the best oligarchy; equality of estates (τὸ τὰς οὐσίας ἴσας εἶναι) is recommended as giving internal stability and inhibiting civil conflict (Pol. 1267a37-b9); but an increase in the number of well-to-do or in the size of estates causes more or less narrow oligarchies to develop; and may foster opposition between property-owners (οἱ τὰς οὐσίας ἔχοντες) and the common people (δῆμος) (Pol. 1296a25). An important passage defines four types of oligarchy on the basis of οὐσία.

It is worth quoting it in full, especially since it contains Aristotle’s complete classification of the varieties of oligarchy,

from

a broadly-based

type to a

narrow power-group (δυναστεία, ὀλιγαρχία): As for oligarchy: when a greater number of people own estates of smaller and not excessive size, we have the first type of oligarchy. They permit a property-owner to participate, and, with a large number of men having a share in governing, authority will necessarily be vested not in men but in

the law. For the further removed they are from monarchy, their estate will either be so large that they can enjoy leisure without concern for their property, or so small that they have to be maintained from public funds. It follows that they think it right that the

law should rule over them and not they. When the number of estate owners is smaller but their estates larger, we get the second type of oligarchy. Their greater influence, they believe, entitles them themselves

to greater prerogatives.

to chose

from

Accordingly,

the rest those who

they take

will be admitted

it upon to the

governing body; but since they are not quite influential enough to rule without law, they enact a law to that effect. If they narrow it by having fewer people own larger estates, the third

stage of oligarchy is reached. They keep the offices in their own hands but adopt a law stipulating that sons succeed their fathers.

When

they confine

to an extreme extent requiring

estates limited to a network of relationships, we have a narrow

power-group (δυναστεία) which is close to monarchy, in which authority

OLIGARCHY AND OLIGARCHS IN ANCIENT GREECE

393

rests with men and not with law. This is the fourth type of oligarchy, the

counterpart to the final kind of democracy.” This, I think, is as far as we can go in describing an oligarchy and oligarchs in general terms. But a most intractable problem remains: how do we recognize a particular régime in a particular city as an “oligarchy”? What criteria are we to use, if we wish to make a list of specific “oligarchical” cities? The theoretical

treatments, especially Aristotle’s Polincs provide us with some incidental information about historical oligarchies. But, as already observed, our image of oligarchies is shaped almost exclusively by the negative stance of the philosophers and by the polemical attitudes we encounter in the Athenian orators of the fourth-century. This makes it very difficult to gain a correct perspective on how oligarchs saw themselves, and what oligarchs would themselves have said in defense of their institutions. They might have advocated, as Theramenes did, that affairs should be entrusted to those best able to help the

state with their fortunes and their bodies;” that the traditions and education of the upper

classes are a better guarantee

of good

government

than un-

informed decisions made by volatile and uneducated masses, that an oligarchy is really the “rule of the best”, that is, an “aristocracy” etc. But these remain our own speculations and reconstructions and are not statements that have come down to us from antiquity.

There are some isolated instances that help us support, by and large, the criteria on which Aristotle based his four types of oligarchy. For example, when

the Thebans, in defending their conduct before a panel of Spartan judges in the summer of 427 BC, describe their system of government during the Persian Wars as a δυναστεία ὀλίγων ἀνδρῶν (which they liken to a tyranny) and the system under which they lived at the time of their speech as an ὀλιγαρχία ἰσόνομος (Thuc. 3.62.3), we are dealing with one of the rare cases, in which a

given city explicitly it is one of the very mentioned side by higher limit), and

identifies itself (or is identified) as oligarchically governed; few passages in which two different kinds of oligarchy are side -- a narrow form run by only a few men (Aristotle’s another which claims to embody a principle of political

equality (Aristotle’s lower limit); it is, to the best of my knowledge, the only

passage in Classical Greek literature in which something positive is said about oligarchy. We should like to know something about the political institutions of Thebes in 480/79 and in the summer of 427 BC, respectively, on the basis of which its government could be called an “oligarchy that recognizes egalitarian principles” at one point and “a clique of a few men” at another. But Thucydides is as silent on that point as are most other authors. Except for a very few minor institutions, such as proboulot, we are hopelessly ignorant whether there

394

MARTIN

existed

important

institutional

OSTWALD

differences

between

democracies

and

olig-

archies. Both systems seem to have worked with Assemblies, Councils, and magistrates; did the numbers of each and the relative weight of each constitute the only decisive differences between them?

The most successful modern attempt to collect and interpret what evidence there is for oligarchical régimes is that undertaken by Hans-Joachim Gehrke

in connection with his valuable study of stasis.”” Though his results are based on an exhaustive study of the relevant literature and inscriptions, they do not go far beyond what the Thebans tell us in Thucydides and what we learn from Aristotle’s Polines: Gehrke differentiates two types of oligarchy. Both have a

property qualification for citizenship, mostly in landed property. In one, the τίμημα even for election to office is low enough to make most citizens eligible

to a Council and to other offices in such a way that ratification by an Assembly was no more than a formality; in some cases, property qualifications serve as

the basis only for military duty; voting is by show of hands rather than by lot; and the terms of public officials are not necessarily limited to one year. In addition to these forms, there is, as in Thucydides and Aristotle, a narrow kind of oligarchy, which completely excludes small landowners, which has a high

property requirement and restricts office to a narrow circle, a clique, a family, a clan, whose rule is as autocratic as the rule of a tyrant.

Can we ever hope to get further? The prospects do not seem to be very good; but perhaps it will be possible that new inscriptional finds and a more

intensive study of long-known inscriptions may enable us some day to reconstruct an oligarchical state and its citizen from the point of view of ancients who were proud to call themselves “oligarchs”.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Barker, E. 1948. The Politics of Aristotle (Oxford). Böckh, A. 1886. Die Staatshaushaltung der Athener, (Berlin). Busolt, G. ἃ Swoboda, H. Christ, M.R.

31rd edn.

by Max

Frankel, 2 vols.

1920. Griechische Staatskunde I (Munich).

1990. “Liturgy Avoidance and Anridosis in Classical Athens,” TAPA

120: 147-

169. Gabrielsen, V. 1987. “The Anadosts Procedure in Classical Athens,” ClMed 38: 7-38. Gehrke, H.-J. 1985. Stasis. Untersuchungen zu den inneren Kriegen in den griechischen Staaten des 5. und 4. Jahrhunderts v. Chr. (Munich). Ostwald, M. 1986. From Popular Sovereignty to the Sovereignty of Law (Berkeley). Ostwald, M. 1995. “Public Expense: Whose Obligation? Athens 600-454 B.C.E.,” Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society 139: 368-379.

OLIGARCHY AND OLIGARCHS IN ANCIENT GREECE

395

Ostwald, M. 1996. “Shares and Rights: ‘Citizenship’ Greek Style and American Style,” in Demokratia: A Conversation on Democracies Ancient and Modern, ed. by J. Ober & C. Hedrick (Princeton) 49-61. van Effenterre, H. ἃ Ruzé, F. 1994, Nomima: Recueil d’inscriptions politiques et juridiques de Varchaisme grec. 1 (= Collection de l’Ecole Française de Rome 188).

NOTES This paper has been improved by the critical comments of Lisa Kallet, Helen F. North, Marcel Piérart, and William Turpin. In thanking them all for their kindness, I absolve them them of all

responsibility for flaws in form and substance that remain. I dedicate it to Mogens Hansen with admiration and affection. For a good list of the range of legislation covered by the Archaic lawgivers, see van Effenterre & Ruzé (1994) 5-7. δημοτικός, although also used as an opposite to ὀλιγαρχικός, More commonly appears in a sense,

not necessarily political, of denoting the personal quality of “popular”, “genial”, “favoring the common people”. This is shown by the very fact that not only Solon (Dem. 18.6; Arist. Auk. Poi. 9.1, 10.1) and Thrasyboulos (Dem. 19.280), but also Peisistratos (Arist. Ath. Pol. 13.5, 16.8) and Sokrates (Xen. Mem: 1.2.60) were characterized by this adjective.

14.1,

At Thuc. 6.60.1 the adjective is used to describe the suspicions rife in 415 that a conspiracy was afoot to establish an oligarchy or tyranny; and at Thuc. 8.72.2 to describe the aversion of the sailors in the fleet to the oligarchical order at Athens. [Andoc.} 4.16 inveighs against Alkibiades as pretending to be a friend of the common people by

calling his opponents ὀλιγαρχικοὺς καὶ μισοδήμους (“oligarchs and people-haters”). Lys. 25.8: οὐδείς ἐστιν ἀνθρώπων φύσει οὔτε ὀλιγαρχικὸς odte δημοκρατικός, ἀλλ᾽ ἦτις ἂν ἑκάστῳ

πολιτεία συμφέρῃ, ταύτην προθυμεῖται καθεστάναι. Thuc. 2.37.1: καὶ ὄνομα μὲν διὰ τὸ μὴ ἐς ὀλίγους ἀλλ᾽ ἐς πλείονας οἰκεῖν δημοκρατία κέκληται. The pseudo-Xenophontic ᾿Αθηναίων πολιτεία (“Old Oligarch”) may perhaps be regarded as an exception. However, its author is not an enemy of democracy as a political system but of its social and economic policies; see Ostwald

(1986)

189-190.

Oligarchy is bracketed with tyranny at Menexenus 238E and is rated as superior to democracy at Respublica 5440, & 5470. See Respublica 555B, 556E.

11. 12.

The exception here is the discussion of the ἀρίστη πολιτείᾳ in Polincs Book 7, which is “the absolutely best, and not the best which is ‘possible in the circumstances of the case’” (Barker [1948] 279 n. 2). Arist. Pol. 1290a24-29; 1290a30-b3. ibid. 1278a8-11: ἡ δὲ βελτίστη πόλις οὐ ποιήσει βάναυσον πολίτην. εἰ δὲ καὶ οὗτος πολίτης, ἀλλὰ πολίτου ἀρετὴν ἣν εἴπομεν λεκτέον οὐ παντός, οὐδ᾽ ἐλευθέρου μόνον, ἀλλ᾽ σοι τῶν ἔργων εἰσὶν

ἀφειμένοι τῶν ἀναγκαίων. That Aristotle is not alone, nor the first one to hold this belief is shown by the argument of the Herald at Eur. Supp, 421-425, that a farmer is prevented by his work from devoting himself to public affairs. 13.

See, e.g., Arist. Pol.

1266a8-14:

τὸ μὲν yap ἐξ αἱρετῶν κληρωτοὺς κοινὸν ἀμφοῖν. td δὲ τοῖς μὲν

εὐπορωτέροις ἐπάναγκες ἐκκλησιάζειν

εἶναι καὶ φέρειν ἄρχοντας ἥ τι ποιεῖν ἄλλο τῶν πολιτικῶν.

τοὺς 8’ ἀφεῖσθαι, τοῦτο δ᾽ ὀλιγαρχικὸν, καὶ τὸ πειρᾶσθαι πλείους ἐκ τῶν εὐπόρων εἶναι τοὺς ἄρχοντας. καὶ τὰς μεγίστας ἐκ τῶν μεγίστων τιμημάτων. See also iid.

1278a21-23 et passim.

14.

See Ostwald (1996).

15.

That the τίμημα was based on ownership of property is attested by: Pl. Resp. 551B; Leg. 744A-D, 915B; Dem. 27.7, 29.60; Arist. Pol. 1266625, 1292a41, 1292b30-32, 1298a38-40, 1306b12-13, 1320b25-26, 1321a28. The following discussion will exclude from consideration the judicial

MARTIN OSTWALD

396

sense of τίμημα, the fine or penalty proposed by plaintiff and counterproposed by defendant upon conviction. For this meaning, see Busolt & Swoboda (1920) 553-554, The best (though party obsolete) discussion is still that of Böckh (1886) 578-594. 16. 11. 18, 19. 20.

PL Resp. 550CD, 551B, 553A; Arist. Rher. 1365633; Pod. 1292a39-40; 1292b31-32; 1307a27-28. Arist. Ach. Pol. 7.3; cf. Hsch. s.vv. ἐκ τιμημάτων, ζευγίδιον, θητικόν, ἱππάδα; and Suda s.v. ἐκ τιμημάτων. T have touched on this problem in Ostwald (1995) 370-374. See Arist. Pol. 1292b30. Lys. 19.48; Isae. 7.39. According to Arist. Pol. 1308a35-b4, it was made annually in some states and every three or five years in larger states. Some

form of it may have been

used in fourth-

century Athens in antidosis cases; see Gabrielsen (1987) 17-19, and Christ (1990) 160-168. 21.

Lys. 17.7-9.

22.

Arist. Ath. Pol. 7.3-4; Isae. 7.39; Demosthenes 24.144, 43.54; Pl. Leg. 698B; Harp. s.v. ἱκπάς; Hsch. s.v. ὁμοτελεῖς. For this formulation, see Ostwald (1995). Note that Plato’s state in the Leges also recognizes four τέλη (744A-D, cf. Arist. Pol. 1266a16-17).

23.

Arist. Ath. Pol. 7.3 with 8.1.

24.

Xen. Mem. 4.6.12; Arist. Rher. 1365b33; Pol. 1266b23-24; 1278223; 1282a31-32; 1291b39-40; 1292a39-40, b1; 1294b9-10; 1305a29-30; 1317b22; 1318b30-31.

25. 26.

ibid. 1282229; 1294b3-4; 1305a29-30; 1317b22-23. Arist. Ath. Pol. 7.3-4; Harp. s.vv. θῆτες καὶ θητικόν, and ἱππάς; Suda s.v. innds; Poll. 8.130-131.

27.

Arist. Pol. 1266a8-13; 1266b23-24, 1278821-26; 1282a29-31; 1292b1-3; 1294b3-4; 1305a3031; 1305b32-33; 1318a30-38.

28.

ibid. 1279b17-19:

_ ὀλιγαρχία δ᾽ ὅταν ὦσι κύριοι τῆς πολιτείας οἱ τὰς οὐσίας ἔχοντες, δημοκρατία

δὲ τοὐνεναντίον ὅταν οἱ μὴ κεκτημένοι πλῆθος οὐσίας ἀλλ' ἄποροι. 29.

This probably refers to Kolophon’s defeat by Gyges in the first half of the seventh century BC (see Hdt. 1.14.4).

30.

Arist. Pol. 1303a11-13: πλειόνων yap τῶν μεταβάλλουσιν εἰς ὀλιγαρχίας καὶ δυναστείας.

31.

Arıst. Pol. 1293a12-34: τάδε δὲ τῆς ὀλίγαρχίας" ὅταν μὲν πλείους ἔχωσιν οὐσίαν, ἐλάττω δὲ καὶ μὴ πολλὴν λίαν, τὸ τῆς πρώτης ὀλιγαρχίας εἶδός ἐστιν' ποιοῦσι γὰρ ἐξουσίαν μετέχειν τῷ κτωμένῳ, καὶ

εὐπόρων

γινομένων

ἢ

τῶν

οὐσιῶν

αὐξανομένων

διὰ τὸ πλῆθος εἶναι τῶν μετεχόντων τοῦ πολιτεύματος ἀνάγκη μὴ τοὺς ἀνθρώπους ἀλλὰ τὸν νόμον εἶναι κύριον (ὅσῳ γὰρ ἂν πλεῖον ἀπέχωσι τῆς μοναρχίας, καὶ μήτε τοσαύτην ἔχωσιν οὐσίαν Gute σχολάζειν ἀμελοῦντες, μήθ᾽ οὕτως ὀλίγην ὥστε τρέφεσθαι ἀπὸ τῆς πόλεως, ἀνάγκη τὸν νόμον ἀξιοῦν αὐτοῖς ἄρχειν, ἀλλὰ μὴ αὐτούς} ἐὰν δὲ δὴ ἐλάττους ὦσιν οἱ τὰς οὐσίας ἔχοντες ἢ οἱ τὸ πρότερον, πλείω δέ, τὸ τῆς δευτέρας ὀλιγαρχίας γίνεται εἶδος: μᾶλλον γὰρ ἰσχύοντες πλεονεκτεῖν ἀξιοῦσιν, διὸ αὐτοὶ μὲν αἱροῦνται ἐκ τῶν ἄλλων τοὺς εἰς τὸ πολίτευμα βαδίζοντας, διὰ δὲ τὸ μήπω οὕτως ἰσχυροὶ εἶναι ὥστ᾽ ἄνευ νόμου ἄρχειν τὸν νόμον τίθενται τοιοῦτον. ἐὰν δ' ἐπιτείνωσι τῷ ἐλάττονες ὄντες μείζονας οὐσίας ἔχειν, ἡ τρίτη ἐπίδοσις γίνεται τῆς ὀλιγαρχίας. τὸ δι᾽ αὐτῶν μὲν τὰς ἀρχὰς ἔχειν͵ κατὰ νόμον δὲ τὸν κελεύοντα τῶν τελευτώντων διαδέχεσθαι τοὺς υἱεῖς. ὅταν δὲ ἤδη πολὺ ὑπερτείνωσι ταῖς οὐσίαις

καὶ ταῖς πολυφιλίαις, ἐγγὺς ἡ τοιαύτη δυναστεία μοναρχίας ἐστίν͵ καὶ κύριοι γίνονται οἱ ἄνθρωποι, ἀλλ᾽ οὐκ à νόμος: καὶ τὸ τέταρτον εἶδος τῆς ὀλιγαρχίας τοῦτ᾽ ἐστίν, ἀντίστροφον τῷ τελευταίῳ τῆς δημοκρατίας.

32. 33.

See Thuc. 8.65.3 and Arist. Ath. Pol. 29.5, with Ostwald (1986) 365-366. Gehrke (1985) esp. chap. 3 on “Die inneren Voraussetzungen der Stasis,” pp. 315-320.

Boiotian Swine F(or)ever? The Boiotian Superstate 395 BC*

PAUL CARTLEDGE

Grenfell: We’re trackers (ly vevute¢) and what we seek

are fragments of papyri in ancient Greek. We've filled a few crates full already this week. Here are treasures crated, waiting to be shipped from Egypt back to Oxford where we work out each script. First we dig, then we decipher, then we must deduce all the letters that have mouldered into dust.

Hunt:

We have both become obsessive. So many loads per hour or they end up as compost on some Cairo cauliflower. If one of our backs were turned our fellaheen would be sloshing Bacchylides on their aubergine. If we’re not double-quick the local folk will mix Homer and camel dung to grow their artichoke. Find any fragment however frail or teeny before it goes to fertilize fellaheen zucchini. I suppose that a compost of ancient Greek’s as good a way as any to grow successful leeks. We had to be a bit manic not to slip behind, one digging and deciphering, one logging each new find.’

Just over a century ago, on an Egyptian site in the Fayum anciently known as Oxyrhynchos or (something like) “Sharpnosedfishville”, the Oxford scholars B.P. Grenfell and A.S. Hunt began the truffle-hunting for papyri that continues elsewhere in the sands of Egypt to this day.” The Oxyrhynchos

398

PAUL CARTLEDGE

papyrus with which this paper is principally concerned was first published by them in 1908, with the assistance of such luminaries as F. Blass, Ed. Meyer,

Wilamowitz and not least J.B. Bury, as P Oxy. 842.’ Conventionally, papyrologists draw

a working

distinction

between

“documentary”

and

“literary”

papyri; but P Oxy. 842 is both. On the recto is a land survey of the Oxyrhyn-

chite administrative nome drawn up for tax-collection purposes in the second century of our era; on the verso is the text that concerns us: a disiectum membrum of the eponymous “Oxyrhynchos Historian” (also known as “P” for Papyrus Historian). How

may

this (not of course unique)

back-to-back

conglutination have

come about? Two possibilities were canvassed by Eric Turner in a masterly little article on “Roman Oxyrhynchus” (Turner [1952]): either superannuated tax documents

such as this land-register were sold as scrap for recycling by

Alexandria book-dealers; or the bigwigs in whose offices the documents were drawn up themselves recycled them for their own higher, cultural purposes.

Turner himself, despite the admitted constant to-and-fro between Oxyrhynchos and Alexandria at the relevant period, the turn of the second and third centuries of our era, preferred the second explanation; and certainly the

thought of a literate Greek elite poring over demanding prose historical texts of the mid-fourth

century

BC,

that is, almost

as distant in time from the

Greeks of ca. 200 AD as Chaucer is from us, is appealing. But who is this “Oxyrhynchos Historian” (or P), and why should we care about that, or him, anyway?

To snip a long story short, he is a major continuator of Thucydides, one of at least four such

known

to us, and

important

enough

for three separate

papyrus copies of his work to have survived (the other two, besides the London fragments, residing now in Florence and Cairo). Of all the possible candidates

for our anonymous author, the most likely would appear to be the Athenian Kratippos (Plut. Mor. 345F), although the amusing suggestion that “he” was in fact a she, viz. Thucydides’s daughter (who according to the late Vita of

Thucydides

acted

deserves at least was

writing

as her prematurely

deceased

pater’s literary executor),

a mention (Ehrhardt [1970] 225). At all events, he (or she)

a Hellenika,

or

general

Greek

history,

in

the

Thucydidean

pragmatic manner and on the Thucydidean chronographic model ‘by summers and winters’; but a history without Thucydidean speeches, for which it would

appear that digressions served some of the same literary and historiographical functions. It is on one of these digressions -- sections 2-4 of chapter 11 of the original

Grenfell

& Hunt

edition,

or chapter

16 of the

1959

Teubner

of

Bartoletti, or chapter 19 of the 1993 Teubner by Chambers - that this essay

will focus specifically.‘

BOIOTIAN SWINE F(OR)EVER?

399

εἶχεν δὲ τὰ πράγματα τότε κατὰ [τὴ]ν Βοιωτίαν οὕτως- ἦσαν καθεστηκυῖαι βουλαὶ τίό]τε τέτταρες παρ᾽ ἐγκάστῃ τῶν πόλεων,ὧν οὐχ ἅπασι] τοῖς πολίταις

ἐξῆ]ν μετέχειν, ἀϊλλὰ] τοῖς κεκ[τημένοις] πλῆθος tlt χρημάτων, τούτων δὲ τῶν βουλῶίν κατὰ] μέρος ἐκάσίτη προκγχθημένη καὶ προβουλεύ(ίουσα) περὶ τῶν πραγμάτων εἰσέφερεν εἰς τὰς τρεῖς, ὅτι] δ᾽ ἔδοξεν andoa[ik, τοῦτο κύριον ἐγίγνετο. κ[αὶ τὰ μὲν] ἴδια διετέλουν οὕτω διοικούμενοι, τὸ δὲ τῶν Βοικυτῶν τοῦτον ἦν τὸν τρόπον συντεταγμένον. [καθ᾽ Evexa μέρη διήρηντο πάντες οἱ τὴν χώραν oikovy[tec} καὶ τούτων ἕκαστον ἕνα παρεΐχετο βοιώταρχον (οὕτω Θηβαῖοι μὲν τέταρας-ς: συνεβάλλοντο, δύο μὲν ὑπὲρ τῆς] πόλεως, δύο δὲ ὑπὲρ Πλαταινέων καὶ Σκώλου καὶ ᾿Ερ[υἹθρῶ(ν] καὶ Σκαφῶν καὶ τῶν ἄλλων χωρίων τῶν πρότερον μὲν ἐκείνοις συμπολιτευομένων, τότε δὲ συντελούντων εἰς τὰς Θήβας. δύο δὲ Θεσπιεῖς σὺν Εὐτρήσει καὶ Θίσβαις, ἕνα δὲ Ταναγραῖοι, καὶ πάλιν ἕτερον ᾿Αλιάρτιοι καὶ Λεβαδεῖς καὶ Κορωνεῖς, ὃν ἔπεμπε κατὰ μέρος ἑκάστη τῶν πόλεων. τὸν αὐτὸν δὲ τρόπον ἐβάδιζεν ἐξ ᾿Ακραιφνίου καὶ Κωπῶν καὶ Χαιρωνείας, οὕτω μὲν οὖν ἔφερε τὰ μέρη τοὺς ἄρχοντας: παρείχετο δὲ καὶ βουλευτὰς ἑξήκοντα κατὰ τὸν βοιώταρχον, καὶ τούτοις αὐτοὶ τὰ καθ᾽ ἡμέραν ἀνήλισκον. ἐπετέτακτο δὲ καὶ στρατιὰ ἑκάστῳ μέρει περὶ χιλίους μὲν ὀπλίτας, ἱππέας δὲ ἑκατόν: ἁπλῶς δὲ δηλῶσαι κατὰ τὸν ἄρχοντα καὶ τῶν κοινῶν

ἀπέλαυον καὶ τὰς εἰσφορὰς ἐποιοῦντο καὶ δικασιτὰς; ἔπεμπον καὶ μετεῖχον ἁπάντων ὁμοίως καὶ τῶν κακῶν καὶ τῶν ἀγαθῶν. τὸ μὲν οὖν ἔθνος ὅλον οὕτως ἐπολιτεύετο, καὶ τὰ συνέδρια {kai} τὰ κοινὰ τῶν Βοιωτῶν ἐν τῇ Καδμείᾳ συνεκάθιζεν.

(“At that tme the political situation in Boiotia was as follows. There were four councils established at that time in each of the poleis. Not every one of the citizens was allowed to share in these, but only those who met a certain property qualification. Each of these councils in turn would sit and pre-deliberate about policy, and refer matters for decision to the other three. What

was

deemed

acceptable

to all four became

authoritative

policy. They continued to run their local affairs in this way, but Boiotiawide matters were arranged in the following way. All who lived in that area were distributed into eleven divisions (mere), and each provided a Boiotarch, as follows. The pols of Thebes contributed four (two on its own

behalf, rwo for Plataiai, Skolos, Erythrai,

Skaphai

and the other

choria previously sharing a common citizenship with them but at that time subject to Thebes);

Orchomenos

and Hysiai provided two Boiotarchs

between them; Thespiai with Eutresis and Thisbai provided two; Tanagra one; and Haliartos, Lebadeia and Koroneia

between

them provided a

further one, whom each of the poleis would send in turn; and in the same

manner

one would

come

from Akraiphnion,

Kopai

and

Chaironeia

Gointly). In this way the mere returned their officials. They provided also sixty (federal) councillors per Boiotarch, whose daily expenses they paid. For the organisation

of the army, each meros was required to provide

400

PAUL CARTLEDGE

some 1000 hoplites and 100 cavalrymen. To put it simply, in accordance with the number of their officials, they drew on the common funds, paid taxes, appointed jurymen, and in general shared alike in all the public burdens and benefits. This, then, was how the set-up of the whole erhnos

was arranged [or: how the whole ethnos conducted its political affairs], and the meetings of the federal council and other common assembiies of the Boiotians would sit on the (Theban) Kadmeia.” [translation after Mc-

Kechnie ἃ Kern, modified by author]). The digression occurs in what Arnaldo Momigliano once described as the Oxyrhynchos Historian’s “best chapter” ({1966]

121), better, that is to say,

than the chapters on the origins of the Korinthian War (395-386), with which

the historian was then principally dealing. And it sets out what we might want to call the “constitution” of the federal state, or league, of the Boiotians as that stood in 395, that is, just at the outbreak of the Korinthian War, in which “the Boiotians”

(the state’s official ancient

name)

formed

part of a Quadruple

Alliance ranged against Sparta, then hegemon of all Aegean Greece.’ The precise workings of the federal state have been gone into and gone over by countless historians since 1908.° What has not been so often or so carefully considered are the implications of the document for the history of Greek political thought.’ I shall therefore pursue that approach here, as part of my current

project on the history

of the relationship

between

Greek

political

thought and Greek political action from Homer to Plutarch, and I shall do so for two main reasons in particular. First, the federal state or league in question is an oligarchic one, indeed the only ancient Greek oligarchic state (Sparta not excluded)

for

which

we

have

anything

like

so

precise

a

constitutional

description at any time in its existence. Second, the state in question is Boiotian, and one thing the ancient Boionans collectively did not have a great reputation for was intellectual activity, let alone theoretical acumen. To start with the latter point. Already long before the time of Pindar (Oi. 6.151-152; cf. fr. 75 [Snell]), the phrase “Boiotian swine” had acquired a pejorative, anthropocentric application — one that Pindar, himself a Boiotian from Thebes,

was hardly keen to endorse, let alone warmly

embrace.

The

Boiotians’ reputation for being swinishly uncultured and grossly addicted to fleshly things came to be attributed, in the Hippocratic scholarly manner (cf. Aer. 16), to the inspissated atmosphere of the Boiotian region. Its true source, though, was not the air over Boiotia, but the noxious odours emanating from the snobbish denizens of the “violet-crowned” city of Athens next door. An

“Attic neighbour” became a proverbial phrase for an appalling neighbour, and the Athenians managed to rub a good deal of their salty wit into the wounded

BOIOTIAN SWINE F(OR)EVER?

401

intellects of their Boiotian komoroi. And to amazingly successful effect, in the very long run. For notwithstanding Pindar, Epameinondas, and Plutarch, to name but three outstanding Boiotian intellects, the modern reception of the

Boiotians has tended uncannily to echo the ancient Athenians’ denigration of them.® By the end of this essay I hope to have gone some little way towards

demonstrating that, despite the intended slur, a “Boiotian mind” (Paroemiogr. 1.357, 11.333) might sometimes show more than a touch of intellectual genius, particularly in the field of applied political thought. There is, however, a further possible obstacle to be got out of the way at the start. Oligarchs were almost by definition rich men; and although most of the

many ancient names for the rich were laudatory or self-congratulatory, one of them, namely pachets, could mean

“thick” in a mental as well as a crassly

material sense. Yet in practice democratic political theory has proven far harder

to pin down than oligarchic.’ Both pre- and anti-democratic theory is extant in considerably greater abundance than pro-democratic theory, most obviously in Plato and Aristotle, but also in for instance Herodotos’ Persian Debate (see

further below), in Antiphon’s vital contribution to the oligarchic counterrevolution at Athens in 411

(Cartledge

[1990]; cf. Lewis

[1993]), and, as I

shall argue here, in the intellectual underpinnings of the Boiotian federal state of 447-386, as that has been preserved for us above all by the Oxyrhynchos Historian but also in a couple of key passages of Thucydides (3.63.3, 5.37.4

38.3). Before I look in detail at the thinking behind it, let us consider first the Boiotian federal state in action, in histoncal context.

I Our chosen papyrus text begins with a chronological marker: after saying that there had been stasiasmos in Boiotia (i.e., within the federal state as a whole),

the author proceeds: ta pragmata tote eichen. Tote here does double duty: it refers explicitly to the condition of the pragmata in what we call 395, but it also implies that the condition of the pragmata was no longer the same at the time

of writing. That change of condition is most obviously and easily associated with the dissolution of the oligarchic Boiotian federal state, at the behest of

Agesilaos, in 386, and its re-formation on new, moderately democratic lines in and after 378.'° Our author, in other words, was writing at some time after 378 and - so it would appear from another preserved passage of the London

papyrus - before 346."! Our passage ends as follows: “this is how the ethnos epoltteueto”. That too is doubly informative. First, “the Boiotians” (the state’s technical name) were an

402

PAUL CARTLEDGE

ethnos, not a pols, though the state was, as we shall see, composed of several polets; in other words, status as an ethnos was by no means incompatible with

“advanced”, even “progressive” political arrangements. Second, the Oxyrhynchos Historian preferred the concrete verbal form epoltteueto to the abstract “this was their pohtzeia”; a preference that (I would argue) he shared with and

perhaps even borrowed from his forerunner and (in crucial respects) model,

Thucydides.'? Our knowledge of Classical Boiotian history is sketchy, so a sketchy outline to contextualise this particular text seems appropriate"? The region of Boiotia

is a relatively fertile and strategically vital 3000 or so km? (1119 square miles) of central Greece, sufficiently strategic and contested to be dubbed, by a Boiotian who

ought to have known

war” (orchestra of polemos: Plut. Mor.

(Epameinondas),

the “dancing-floor of

193E [18]).'* Some sort of Bund seems

to have come into existence in the region, with a religious focus, as was normal,

by the end of the sixth century;'” but, equally, the abstention from that protoBund of Plataiai, which was placed geographically berween Thebes and Athens

and chose to ally itself with the latter in perhaps 519 (Hdt. 6.108, Thuc. 3.68.5), was a neat exemplification of a vivid simile attributed to Perikles. With his customary cutting-edge rhetorical gift, he is said to have likened the Boiotians to holm-oaks whose tops crash together in a storm and so act as each other’s executioners (Arist. Rher. 1407a4-6).'° The Boiotians, in other words, were experts in the Greek political art of disunion, if not necessarily greater

experts than — say -- the Cretans (Arist. Pol. 1269a40-b3). This makes only the more remarkable the unity of the federal state constitution described by the Oxyrhynchos Historian.

But let us stay for a moment more with that state’s immediate prehistory. In face of the great Persian invasion of 480, the Boiotians did not join the small and tenuous Greek resistance nor did they, like the Argives, adopt a pose of neutrality.

Instead,

they

medized,

thereby

befouling

themselves

with

an

indelible cultural stain of which Alexander of Macedon was to take unfair advantage 150 years later, in 335. Having been placed in command of a notionally Panhellenic anti-Persian expedition, yet finding Thebes

in revolt

against him, he had the city virtually annihilated, sparing only the sacred spaces and structures and, allegedly, the house once inhabited by Pindar. Apparently, he judged on pragmatic grounds that it would be advantageous for him to call attention simultaneously to Pindar’s Greek genius and to his own respect for it. As for the Thebans themselves, they, according to a speech of 427 placed in their collective mouth by Thucydides (section IJ, below), had attempted to

explain away their ancestors’ medism of 480 on the grounds that their city had then been ruled by an autocratic dynasteia (junta) rather than by a legitimate

BOIOTIAN SWINE F(OR)EVER?

regime

of either

oligarchy

or democracy.

But

that

403

of course

was

special

pleading, and probably factually false pleading too.'?

However, even after the repulse of Xerxes the Boiotians did not immediately or obviously suffer for their medism from other Greeks; it was, rather, their own self-inflicted headchopping,

fomented

by the two great rivals for local

hegemony, Thebes and Orchomenos, that opened the way for imperial Athens’ decisive intervention in the early 450s. Indeed, between 457 and 447 (or 446),

Boiotia was actually controlled by Athens, and the relevance for subsequent Boiouan

oligarchic

political thinking

of this decade

of domination

by an

expansionist neighbour which was simultaneously undergoing a rampant development of democracy at home will be duly emphasised later on. By 447, however, Athens had been shown to have over-reached herself, in Boiotia as

elsewhere. The anu-Athenian Boiotians, led by returning exiles, shook off the foreign yoke, and in 447 or 446 or so there was probably established in essence the political system preserved in the Oxyrhynchos Historian. “Probably”, because

there is some

question

whether

a full-fledged federal

system

was

introduced at once. “In essence”, only: for between 447 and 395, and more

especially after 431, Thebes took advantage of the uniquely favourable conditions created by the Peloponnesian War to expand its power and influence within the framework of the Boiotian federal set-up of 447-386. To this framework I must now turn in detail.

Our anonymous historian makes a twofold distinction regarding the political institutions

of Boiotia.

institutions

and

then,

He among

distinguishes,

first, between

the local units, between

federal polis

and

local

(independent

‘cities’) and choria (satellite ‘villages’); the latter were dependent in relation to those named poleis here, but otherwise classifiable, as Hansen

(1996b)

has

successfully argued, as polets in their own right. There were thus at least eleven polets (perhaps in fact seventeen or more), but considerably more than eleven individual,

nucleated

settlements.

For

the

largest

three

poleis — Thebes,

Orchomenos, Thespiai — incorporated smaller, satellite communities: for instance, Eutresis and Thisbai were somehow merged in the polis of Thespiai,

perhaps by a formal act of sympoliteia, that is, by the extension of Thespian citizenship to embrace the other two.'” Citizenship within each polis was of two grades, the criterion of differentiation being the ownership of real property. Only those (free adult males) who satisfied the minimum property qualification, which probably corresponded to the ability to equip

and maintain themselves

as hoplite infantrymen,

were

eligible for election to the local deliberative, executive and judicial organ, the boule or Council. Such men, we might say, possessed full or active citizen rights, whereas the lower-grade, second-class citizens possessed only partial or

404

PAUL CARTLEDGE

passive rights.

It is even

conceivable

that the second-class

citizens were

deprived of (or had not been granted) the right to vote in elections, but it is usually agreed by modern

interpreters that the disability consisted rather in

their ineligibility to stand for election to office on the Council. Aristotle, writing probably in the 330s, noted that Thebes had once had a

law banning from office those who had participated in commercial exchange (agora) within the past decade (Pol. 12'78a25-6), and that at Thebes, so far as manual workers were concerned, membership of the politeuma — the abstract

collective noun for all citizens of full status -- was granted only to those who had not laboured at their menial occupation for a stated period (Pol. 1321a2930). It is not clear whether Aristotle meant

to refer to two laws, or to two

clauses of a single law, nor whether both or either of these prohibitions applied to the period of Boiotian federal history under immediate consideration here. But it would be quite reasonable to postulate, at the very least, that at Thebes

in 395 the great majority of local Councillors were well-to-do landed proprietors (like Xenophon’s hot echontes tas oustas, who ruled Mantineia in 385: Hell. 5.2.7).

The local Councils varied in size from polis to polis, depending on their respective populations. Each Council was split into four, such that only a quarter of the Councillors would be in permanent session at any one time.

This was presumably done, in part, to spread the load of business, and perhaps partly also to avoid having to provide political pay and so breach the ethos of amateurism considered appropriate for oligarchs. But looked at from the standpoint of constitutional principle, this quadripartition also embodied the principles of rotation and brevity in office, principles that could have been interpreted as a more typically democratic than oligarchic feature of governance (Arist. Pol. 1317b17-20;

cf. the Athenian prytany system). Major decisions,

however, were taken by majority vote of all Councillors at plenary sessions. Local

organization,

to some

extent, provided

the model

for the federal,

Boiotia-wide administrative set-up. Thus, for federal purposes the eleven poleis (including their incorporated satellites) were grouped in eleven mere (districts or wards, literally ‘divisions’). Each meros contributed exactly the same number

of troops — 1000 hoplites, 100 cavalrymen -- to the federal army, a distribution suggesting that the mere were each roughly equal, at least in respect of the (registered or assessed) number of qualified citizens of hoplite starus or above.

Contributions to and disbursements from the federal treasury were equally distributed among the mere, as were the costs and benefits of federal justice. Each meros sent 60 representatives to the federal boule of 660, which - it is plausibly

inferred

from

a passage

of Thucydides

(5.38.2)

-

functioned

presumably on broadly the same lines as the local Councils: i.e., it was divided

BOIOTIAN SWINE F(OR)EVER?

405

into four groups of 165, each of which sat or was on immediate call for three

months of the year, with important decisions being taken at plenary sessions of the full Council of 660. Such plenary sessions of elected, propertied Councillors were the nearest the oligarchic Boiotians were prepared or dared

to go in the direction of a primary federal assembly.” Each meros, finally, provided one of the eleven Boiotarchs, “leaders of the Boiotians”, politico-military supremos who were elected probably by those who qualified locally as first-class citizens. The Boiotarchs, who took decisions amongst themselves by majority vote (as did, say, the Spartan Ephors, so this

was not a “democratic” feature as such), acted as the executive of the federal state as a whole. They levied troops, commanded in the field and played an important role in diplomacy; they may also have exercised formally or informally a probouleutic function in relation to the federal Council. At any rate, they could behave in a distinctively oligarchic manner: as A. Andrewes acutely remarked in comment on Thucydides 5.39.3 (in Gomme, Andrewes & Dover [1970] 43), “The expectation of the Boeotarchs, that the councils would tamely accept whatever they proposed, is an interesting example of that dominance of the executive which Athens took such pains to avoid, but which was probably characteristic in general of oligarchies”. Before focusing specifically on the oligarchic character of the Boiotian federal state of 395, let us consider for the moment the issue of numbers and

more especially proportion. 660, mathematically, is the product of 3 x 4 x 5 x 11; without necessarily wishing to invoke the shade of “Epameinondas the Pythagorean”,?' one might reasonably emphasise that some quite sophisticated mathematical calculation seems to have lain behind the political division of Boiotia, recalling somewhat, for example, the eight-part division of posttyrannical oligarchic Korinth and the far better attested decimalisation of

proto-democratic Athens by Kleisthenes in 508/7.?? More significant still, however,

is that

the

Boiotian

federal

state, numerically,

was

a genuinely

representative system, even though strictly it represented only the minority of

propertied, first-class Boiotian citizens.” Now, such proportional representation may seem wholly fair, and it would be churlish to deny that its basic inspiration or motivation was in some sense a concern for pan-Boiotian (leaving asıde Plataiai ...) fairness and collective interest. In actuality, however, it masked a real inequality of power among the

constituent Boiotian polities. In 395, the distribution was as follows: Thebes and incorporated satellites -- 4 mere; Orchomenos (with Hysiai) - 2; Thespiai (with

Eutresis

and

Thisbai)

- 2; Tanagra

-

1; Haliartos,

Lebadeia,

and

Koroneia — between them 1; Akraiphia, Kopai, Chaironeia -- between them 1.

That is to say, Thebes

and her satellites contributed 240 out of the 660

406

PAUL CARTLEDGE

Councillors, or just over thirty-six per cent of the total, which was surely sufficient to ensure a majority on most major issues, and four out of the eleven

Boiotarchs. Moreover, the common synedna, meaning presumably plenary meetings of the federal Council, took place on the Theban akropolis, the Kadmeia, and it was presumably also there that the federal treasury and federal lawcourt were located.”* By 395, in other words, the predominance of Thebes within the Boiotian federal state was blatant, though it is a separate — and very difficult - question whether that predominance amounted to an infringement or denial of the autonomia of the other Boiotian member-entities.” It was, as mentioned, the course of the Peloponnesian War that had brought

about this Theban pre-eminence. Specifically, in 431 the meros territory of Thebes had been doubled in size by the political incorporation of smaller, unwalled communities as far afield as Aulis on Boiotia’s east coast (Hell. Oxy. 19.3, 20.3).2° Either then or in 427, when on grounds of sheer Realpolitik the

Spartans backed Thebes à outrance against Plataiai because “they considered the Thebans were useful to them” (Thuc. 3.68.4), and the two larger powers literally annihilated Plataiai, Thebes’

meros-quota was doubled from two to

four. At a stroke, that gave her twice the representation of her closest and most tenacious rival, Orchomenos, which by 395 had moreover lost control of its

satellite Chaironeia. It was hardly unexpected therefore when in 395 Orchomenos seceded from the Boiotian federal state, and thus from the Quadruple Alliance, and went over to the side of that alliance’s enemy, Sparta. “My enemy’s enemy is my friend” was as firmly established a principle in Greek

intra-state as it was in inter-state relations.’

ΠῚ The Oxyrhynchos Historian’s account of the Boiotian federal organization of 395 is not entirely self-explanatory, but it does certainly enlighten the obscurity of Thucydides’s accurate but unexplained references to “the Boiotians” and it completely exposes Xenophon’s tendentious - that is, anti- Theban

- silence

about its very existence.” It demonstrates, besides, that we are dealing here with a true federal state, not a series of bilateral treaties or accords between a

hegemon and its subject-allies as in Sparta’s Peloponnesian League. But, above all, it shows that we have to do with an unusually thoughtful and intelligent political creation, a practical instantiation of a flexibly oligarchic - rather than either aristocratic or democratic — interpretation of a fundamental Greek political-theoretical principle. That principle is equality, in one of its guises, namely tsonomia. This was, however, a notoriously protean concept, com-

BOIOTIAN SWINE F(OR)EVER?

407

prising literally equality of distribution, and so, depending on ideological motivation and performative context, equality of status and privilege under the laws in variant versions and construals.” Here lies the burden of this present essay, 50 let me try to disaggregate that last rather complex and dense assertion. Isonomia plays a key, literally a central role in what is probably the earliest

preserved example of Greek or indeed all Western political theory properly so called, the so-called Persian Debate in Herodotos Book 3.” It is the label appropriated by the one of the three speakers in the Debate who, without actually using the term demokrana, advocates in effect a form of democracy (3.80). It reappears as a democratic watchword, or rather battlecry, in the augmented form isonomia politike, in Thucydides’ famous account of the

Korkyra stasis of 427 (3.82.8).°' However, the earliest known claimants to be conscious promoters of isonomy were not democrats, but first of all an ex-

tyrant of Samos, who allegedly proclaimed isonomia for his fellow-Samians in about 517 (Hdt. 3.142.3), and shortly after that the Athenian aristocrats who comforted themselves in their symposia by equating the murder of Hipparchos

in ca. 514 and the subsequent overthrow of the Peisistratid tyranny in 510 with “making Athens isonomos” (Scola anonyma 10, 13 (Diehl)). Usage of the adjective isonomos, which in practice probably preceded the coinage of the abstract noun isonomia, was not therefore exclusively or peculiarly democratic, but rather pre-democratic and in origin possibly even aristocratic. How did it come about, then, that the (in effect) pro-democratic

speaker in Herodotos’ Persian Debate should have been made to use tsonomia in preference to demokrana in order to describe the form of poltteta that he was notionally (according to the dramatic context) urging the Persians to adopt? The fact is often missed by modern interpreters, but the answer is actually given by the speaker himself: it was precisely because tsonomta was, as he said, “the fairest of names”. By implication, demokrana, a term used elsewhere by Herodotos himself in his own voice and with apparently positive connotation (6.131), would not in this context have been considered a “fair name” at all,

and to have used it here would have been to offer a hostage to fortune. The reason for that is, again, straightforward modern

commentators):

(though

also too often missed by

unlike the formally non-partisan — and indeed not

exclusively political (see Alkmaion

fr. 4 [Diehl]} — word

isonomia, the un-

ambiguously political neologism demokrana would have been interpreted by the speaker’s notional Persian opponents to mean the (as they saw it) wholly unequal and inegalitarian dictatorship of the massed proletariat, their social inferiors, over themselves, the social elite. That indeed was very likely how it

408

PAUL CARTLEDGE

had been invented in actuality by anti-democrats at Athens or elsewhere in Greece. Isonomia, to sum up so far, was a relatively bland, non-specific political idea or slogan, available to and availed of by both democrats and aristocrats. But not only them: for it was manipulated also by oligarchs, and it is a well-known but

(I believe)

hitherto under-interpreted

example

of its oligarchic mani-

pulation that brings us back to our main concern, the Boiotian federal state of 447 or 446-386. In a speech cited earlier, the one that Thucydides placed in the mouth of his Theban speakers in their life-and-death debate with Plataiai before Spartan judges, the historical context of which is 427, the Thebans are

made to exculpate their ancestors of 480 from the potentially lethal charge of medism as follows: Yet consider under what form of government each of us followed these

policies. Our city was administered at that time neither by an oligarchy based on fair and equal laws (oligarchia tsonomos) nor by a democracy (demokrana), but our affairs were in the hands of what is most directly

opposed to laws and the greatest restraint and is closest to tyranny, a clique (dynasteia) of a few men (3.62.3, trs. P.J. Rhodes, slightly modified [see on this text Ostwald, this volume, p. 393]). The factual accuracy of that sophistical claim is, to repeat, dubitable. Yet what

interests me are not its historicity but its theoretical implications. What I want to argue is (1) that both those excluded alternatives, oligarchia tsonomos and demokrana,

had

in this context not just a general

Greek but a specifically

Boiotian meaning, and (ii) that the tsonomos epithet had a particularly exact application to the system of federal and local government described by the Oxyrhynchos Historian that was in force, if also under pressure, in 427. A hundred

years or so further on, in Aristotle’s day, most

enjoyed or laboured under some government

Greek

form of either democratic

(Arist. Pol. 1290a13-16,

1291b7-13,

1296a22-3,

cities

or oligarchic 1301b39-40).

However, as Aristotle was Keen to point out, neither democracy nor oligarchy was a simple, uniform thing; rather, there were several distinct varieties of the

two dominant forms, ranging from the most moderate to the most extreme variants, or — looked at relatively to each other - from the most mutually convergent to the most radically divergent.** Thebes,

for example,

quently

some

the

Boiotian

federal

state,

had

acquired

and conse-

(presumably

quite

moderate) form of democracy in or after 378, when the city regained its independence from Sparta and refounded the Boiotian state on new lines (Buckler [1980]

15-45). But back in 457, when Athens as we saw acquired

hegemony over Boiotia, the situation had been very different.

ΒΟΙΟΤΙΑΝ SWINE F(OR)EVER?

409

Democracy was then still a tender plant in the Greek world generally, and in its Athenian variant was undergoing a phase of dramatic radicalisation at home accompanied by a strong movement of proselytisation abroad. In so far as democratic ideas and practices were introduced to Boiotia between 457 and 447 or 446, they were introduced directly from Athens, and from an Athens

that had just undergone the Ephialtic reforms of 462/1 and the subsequent Perikles-sponsored introduction of political pay for military service and jury service, measures which were to the differential benefit of really very ordinary

Athenian citizens. Here, indeed, was the dreaded dictatorship of the proletariat — as viewed not only by those Athenians who in 458 or 457 were looking to overthrow the new system by treachery from within (Thuc. 1.107) but also by bien pensant oligarchs such as the politically dispossessed landowners of Thebes

and other Boiotian poleis or choria.” In 447 or 446 democracy presumably departed from Boiotia formally along with the Athenians, but it is likely to have left its sting. At all events, under the

immediate stimulus perhaps of Athens’ granting Athenian democratic citizen-

ship in some form to Plataiaian survivors of the 427 catastrophe,™ there were in 424 pro-Athenian, would-be democratic revolutionaries at Siphai and Chaironeia, and a leading democratic conspirator, Ptoiodoros, at Thespiai (Thuc. 4.76.2-3); in the following year, 423, there is mention of “Atticizing” Thes-

pians (Thuc. 4.133.1), who were plausibly — if we may safely infer this from the parallel usage of “Lakonizing” — supporters not merely of their local enemy’s foreign enemy but also of Athenian democratic ideas on internal self-govern-

ment.” One of those key ideas was equality, as expressed in the ideological slogan of isonomia. So it was, I suggest, to that sort of internal democratic provocation that the Boiotian thinkers who

implemented

the new-model

oligarchic federal con-

stitution of Boiotia in or soon after 447 or 446 were consciously responding, with a view to making sure that in application Boionan “equality” would have not even a whiff of Athenian proletarianism about it. No doubt, down-to-earth practical considerations were to begin with at the forefront of the minds of even the most theoretically or ideologically inclined Boiotians: above all, the

necessity of driving and keeping the expansionist Athenian intruders out. But, as Kleisthenes’s utmost

reforms

practicality

could

at Athens profitably

in 508/7 be

had nicely demonstrated,

combined

with

or

informed

the by

sophisticated political thought. Thus — whatever words the Theban spokesman or spokesmen may really have used in 427 — Thucydides’s phrase oligarchia tsonomos, which was apt not only for the government of the polis of Thebes and its immediate satellites but also for the federal state as a whole, is characteristically exact. For the Boiotian federal system took equality in one form, that is

410

PAUL CARTLEDGE

in the form of equality of representation, as far as it was or could reasonably have been taken anywhere in the known Greek world of its day.” Sometimes,

however,

modern

scholars

have

reacted

to this determined

oligarchic egalitarianism of the Boiotians with surprise, partly because today by us egalitarianism

is considered

a peculiarly if not uniquely

democratic

feature, partly because equality, along with liberty, was a key slogan of the best known ancient Greek democracy, that of Classical Athens. Actually, there is no just cause for such surprise, for two main related reasons. First, even the

most radically democratic Athenians were not absolute, thoroughgoing egalitarians; if forced to choose, as in the real world they often were, they tended to place freedom ahead of equality in their scale of fundamental values. Second,

the ancients’ equality -- as Benjamin

Constant was to note of the

ancients’ liberty — was not the same sort of thing as modern equality. Or, to put it more exactly, thinking oligarchs (not an oxymoron, as I hope to have made plain) among the ancient Greeks could without self-contradiction entertain a

different and opposed conception of equality from the one espoused by ancient Greek democrats; and the difference between them was, revealingly I believe,

expressed mathematically. Thus whereas ancient democrats favoured arithmetical or numerical equality, ancient oligarchs propounded the allegedly superior merits of geometric or

proportionate equality.*’ According to the latter, that is oligarchic, view, some people, or more specifically some citizens, were quite simply more equal than others (as George Orwell might have put it), and they therefore deserved, in

all fairness (on the principle of treating equals equally), to receive greater status and privilege than did the inferior citizens. Since those who were deemed to be thus deserving — on grounds of their superior birth, intelligence, education, wealth, or some combination of those — were the minority, or the few (oligot),

it followed logically that for them the preferred system of government was precisely olig-archia, the rule of the few, another fifth-century coinage along with demo-kratia and ansto-krata.

IV That still does not quite do justice specifically to the Boiotians’ contribution to oligarchical thought in action. Suppose, for example, that objection to oligarchy were to be raised along the lines of the argument placed in the mouth of the pro-monarchist “Dareios” in Herodotos’ Persian Debate (3.82.3):

in an oligarchy a small number of people are [competing with each other in] trying to benefit the community, and in this situation violent personal

BOIOTIAN SWINE F(OR)EVER?

411

feuds tend to arise, because every one of them wants to come out on top and have his own views prevail. This leads them to become violently antagonistic towards one another, so that factions arise, which lead to

bloodshed ... [trs R. Waterfield, slightly modified] To that objection or similar ones a thinking oligarch might wish to reply — it ain’t necessarily so: provided only that the oligarchia is an tsonomos one, i.e. a

system of governance designed so as to ensure equality of privilege and status under the laws for all those deemed worthy of such equal treatment. And that, I suggest, is just what thinking Boiotian oligarchs did reply, pragmatically, in the shape of the Boiotian federal constitution that they crafted in or before 447 or 446 and implemented from then or shortly afterwards until 386. It was an oligarchic constitution, to be sure, but also, crucially, an isonomous one, and it enjoyed

what

was by ancient

Greek,

not to mention

ancient

Boiotian,

standards a heroically long lifespan of some sixty years. Why, indeed, should

the democratic devil have all the best tunes?”

412

PAUL CARTLEDGE

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Vlastos, G. 1964. “Isonomia politike,” in J. Mau & E.G. Schmidt (eds.), Isonomia. Studien zur Gleichheitsvorstellung im griechischen Denken (Berlin) 1-35. Whibley, L. 1896. Greek Oligarchies. Their Character and Organization (London, repr. Chicago, 1975). Will, Ed. 1955. Korinthiaka. Recherches sur l’histoire et la civilisation de Corinthe des origines aux guerres médiques (Paris). Will, Ed. et al. 1975. Le

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PAUL CARTLEDGE

416

NOTES The original version of this essay was delivered in April 1998 to 2 Cambridge interdisciplinary seminar entitled “Reputations in Tatters”, co-directed by Richard Hunter and Dorothy Thompson, and designed to commemorate and celebrate the centenary of the publication of P Oxy. vol. I. For helpful comment I am most grateful to that seminar’s directors and participants, especially Jim O'Neil and Pat Easterling. Subsequent oral versions were aired at Manchester and Yale, and similar gratitude is due to Stephen Hodkinson and Victor Bers in particular. The present version has benefited from the guidance of my anonymous referee and the editors, especially Lene Rubinstein. It ig an honour to offer it to my longstanding and deeply valued friend and colleague, Mogens Hansen, although the fact that he is himself a considerable Boiotia expert (Hansen (1995a], [1995b], [19962], [1996b}, and (1996c] represent just a small selection of his quite phenomenal output) fills me with feelings other than pure and unalloyed delight.

sh

Extract from Harrison (1990). Parsons (1998) is an amusing retrospect and prospect; on the site, cf. Shenouda (1976). See also Meyer (1909). Texts, commentaries, translations: see Grenfell & Hunt (1908): edino princeps of London papyrus; Bartoletti (1959): the Florence papyrus, PSI 1304; Bruce (1967); Koenen (1976) 55-67, 69-76: the Cairo papyrus; Moore (1983) 125-133; McKechnie & Kern (1988); and Chambers (1993): incorporating all three papyri, with full bibliography. Discussions of author’s identity, the work’s significance, etc.: see Bloch

(1940)

esp. 303; Breitenbach

(1970); Bonamente

(1973);

Accame (1978a), (1978b); Meister (1996). Seager (1994); Hamilton (1997) 51-53; Munn (1997) 71-73. Beck (1997) 83-106 is recent and comprehensive, with full bibliography. Worthy of special mention among earlier studies are: Freeman (1893) 120-144 (pre-Oxyrhynchus Historian); Glorz (1908); Bonner (1910); Swoboda (1910); Bonner (1915); Busolt ἃ Swoboda (1926) 1409-1447,

at 1414-1423 (always hard to beat); Larsen (1955a) 31-40, (1955b) (1968) 26-40; Dujani¢ (1964); Roesch (1965); Bruce (1967) 157-164; Moggi (1976); Siewert (1977); Salmon (1978); Buck

(1979); Buckler (1980)

15-45

(re-establishment,

378); Salmon

(1985);

Siewert (1985);

Buck (1994); Helly (1995) 173-174; Hansen (1995a), (1996a) 55-62 (Tanagra used as sample of the Copenhagen Polis Centre’s Database Layour), (1996b), (1996c). See further n. 25, below. On Greek (and Roman) federalism more generally, apart from Beck (1997), see Funke (1994); Rhodes (1993) 168-169; and Hansen (1998) 46-47. Larsen (1955b) and Will (1955) 615-619 (esp. 618-619, which to some extent anticipates part of my argument here) are honourable exceptions; cf. now Funke (1998): too late to be used here.

For the Boiotians’ ancient (ill) repute, see Roberts (1895); Guillon (1948) 7-96; van Effenterre (1989). Bakhuizen (1989) 67-68 rehearses the whole sorry catalogue of insults: stupid, insensitive, naive, illiterate, boorish (as well as boarish), gluttonous, and - Tony Harrison (n. 1)

would approve - clog-wearing. Stray (1998) 226 quotes a classic instance of modern “(anti-) Boiotianism” from Richard Livingstone’s wonderfully dated The Greek Genius & tts Meaning to Us (Oxford, 1912): “Athens was its [the Greek genius’s] heart... whereas} Pindar possessed it though he was a Theban” (my emphasis). Odysseus Elytia’s early poem “Μορφὴ τὴς Βοιωτίας" comes as a welcome relief. Farrar (1988) strives valiantly to find high-level democratic theory in Protagoras, Demokritos and Thucydides; more realistically, and empirically, Ober (1989), cf. (1996), discovers a less elevated regime of “democratic knowledge” above all in the Attic orators. Buckler (1980) 15-45; Cardedge (1987) 301, 303; Hansen (1996b) 25-29. Bruce (1967) 4-5, indeed, suggests as early as 374. Writing with notorious ambiguity of the “mixed” regime of the “5000” at Athens in 411-410, Thucydides (8.97.2) used the phrase eu poñreusantes: full discussion of the possible meanings and nuances by A. Andrewes in Gomme,

13. 14.

Andrewes & Dover (1981) ad loc.

Again, I refer for background to Beck (1997) 83-106. Hansen (1996b) 73-78.

BOIOTIAN SWINE F(OR)EVER? 15. 16.

Hansen (1995a) 30-32, however, denies the existence of anything approaching a “league”, let alone a federation, in Boiotia before the 440s. The locus classicus, apart from the destruction of Plataiai by Thebes and Sparta jointly in 427, is the annihilation of Orchomenos by Thebes alone in 364. Note already, however, SEG 24 300, a late-sixth-century dedication by the Thebans at Olympia, the panhellenic sanctugry par excellence, probably celebrating a military victory over their fellow-Boiotians of Hyettos: Hansen {1995a) 16 and n. 17, 32 and n. 100; and SEG 11 1208, a similar dedication of like date at Olympia by Orchomenos for a victory over Koroneia: Beck (1997) 86 n. 14. See further Gehrke (1986)

17.

417

100-103,

185-186 (bibliography).

Art. Anab. 1.9.6-8 produces ἃ veritable litany of Thebes’s un-Hellenic activities, adding those of 431, 427 and 404 to that of 480-479.

See more generally Brunt

(1976) xlv-tviii (“Greece and

Macedon”). 18.

Gehrke (1985) 372-375 (Appendix VII).

19.

Giovannini (1971); but see Hansen (1995a) 54 n. 20.

20.

Contrast the primary assembly of the restored, post-378 established on (moderately) democratic lines: above, n. 10.

21.

Vidal-Naquet & Lévéque (1986); reply by Buckler (1993).

22.

Boiotian federal state, which was

Post-tyrannical Korinth: Will (1955) 609-624; Ruzé (1997) 297-310. Kleisthenic Athens: Siewert

(1985). See aso n. 36, below. 23.

Will (1975) 468, 469 properly emphasises its pioneering quality and truly representative nature.

24.

The old view that berween 446 and 386 Thebes alone minted coins has, however, come under serious challenge: Hansen (1995a) 20-21, with the “Additional note” on p. 63.

25.

Keen (1996) accepts Hansen's (1995b) identification of autonomia with “independence” and the

Copenhagen Polis Centre’s “credo that there were poleis without autonomia” (120), but denies that “there is one single definition of autonomia that all the Greeks accepted” (119), contends that

“autonomia could be interpreted in a number of different ways, according to circumstances” (122), and therefore argues that the Boiotian entities even under Theban suzerainty could have been considered, and could have considered themselves, to be autonomoi. Hansen (1996c) is a typically able rejoinder, defending his original view partly by appeal to the sources (or their silence), partly on grounds of comparative Realpoknk: Great Powers tend to want to have their cake and eat it, by accusing an enemy of a crime or delict of which they themselves are in fact guilty -- in this case, he argues, the Thebans denied to their own immediate subordinate polets the autonomia they vindicated for the subordinates of their enemy; cf. briefly Hansen (1998) 77-83. Beck (1998) 234 subtly nuances Hansen’s perhaps too formalistic and legalistic approach. Further on autonoma and eleutheria in the fifth century: Lévy (1983). Tuplin (1986) 339-340 (cited by Hansen

[1995a]

55 n. 42); Demand

(1990) 83-85.

Cartledge (1987) 292. Doubr has been cast on the extent, or even the existence, of Xenophon’s bias in favour of Sparta,

but his hostility to Thebes is hard to overlook, even by those - e.g., Tuplin (1993) 147-157 - who wish to present Xenophon as in general a less prejudiced author than he has usually been thought. Raaflaub (1996) 143-145; cf. Cartledge (1996a). Persian Debate: Cartledge (1996b) 58 n. 50; add recently Thompson (1996) 52-78, 88. Vlastos (1964). For the radical oligarchs’ construction of “equality”, see below, text and ἢ. 36.

Ste. Croix (1981) 69-80. Diffusion of democracy: generally: Lewis (1984); O'Neil (1995); Robinson (1997); in Boiotia 457-447/6: Gehrke (1985)

164-167.

Osborne (1981) 28-29, (1982) 11-16, D1. Cartledge (1987) 279; cf. Thuc. 6.95.2, a nsing of the demos of Thespiai in 414 suppressed with the help of oligarchic (see 5.31.6: below, n. 38) Thebes. 36.

For the reciprocal influence of Boiotian oligarchic thought and practice on the Athenian oligarchic counter-revolutionaries of 411, see Béarzot (1985).

37.

Harvey (1965); Graham& Forsythe (1984) esp. 41; cf. Cartledge (1996a) esp. 177-178. Whibley (1896), good for its day, desperately needs replacing.

38.

Note the refusal of the Boictians in 420 to join an anti-Spartan alliance in which Argos would take the lead, on the precise grounds, as stated by Thucydides (5.31.6), that the Argive democracy would be less “favourabie” to their cligarchic mode of governance than would the polizeia of the Spartans; for the key claim that in general the Spartans favoured oligarchies within their alliance, see Thuc. 1.19. For egalitarianism of office-holding, see [Anaximenes] Rhetornca ad Alexandrum 1424a39-62 (a reference I owe to Lene Rubinstein).

2 Practical Politics

“Juges des mains” dans les cités hellénistiques

PHILIPPE GAUTHIER

M.H. Hansen a publié en 1977 une étude intitulée “Comment I’ Ecclesia athénienne votait-elle?”' Il y a notamment rappelé ou établi les deux points suivants: 1) s’il était de rigueur dans les tribunaux, le vote secret par “jeton”, psephophoria, était utilisé aussi dans les Assemblées lorsque le quorum était exigé, donc verifie. Les “jetons” étaient, en régle générale, comptes et plusieurs témoignages relatifs aux tribunaux nous sont parvenus sur les résultats de votes ainsi exprimes.? 2) Pour l’election des magistrats et le vote des décisions, à l’Assemblée, on recourait ordinairement au vote à main levée, chetrotonta. Or, aucune source ne nous donne de précision sur le nombre de voix favorables (ou défavorables) soit à tel candidat, soit à telle proposition de décret. Cela

s'explique parce que les mains n'étaient pas comptées (opération longue et complexe), mais estimées. Au IV“ s., à Athènes, les proédres “jugent les votes à main levée”, τὰς χειροτονίας κρίνουσιν (Ath. Pol. 44.3). D'où parfois des contestations, dont on a l’écho chez certains auteurs.’

M.H.

Hansen

a judicieusement rapproché des exemples de procédures

analogues à l’époque moderne, en particulier dans les Landsgemeinden de la

Confédération helvétique.‘ A’ propos de l’Antiquité, et à condition de sortir d’Athènes et de la période classique, on dispose d’autres témoignages qui confirment hommage

pleinement

les conclusions

présentées

à l’auteur de “La Démocratie

par

M.H.

Hansen.

En

athénienne à l’époque de Demos-

théne”, je commenterai ici” les inscriptions hellénistiques qui nous instruisent sur l’appréciation du vote à main levée, cheirotonia.® Je laisserai de côté la psèphophoria, à laquelle j’ai consacré une étude particulière.’

L La Grèce péninsulaire Dans

trois cités de Grèce péninsulaire, des inscriptions font connaître

cheiroskopoi, officiant soit au Conseil,

soit à l’Assemblée;

des

elles illustrent et

confirment la glose de la Souda, χειροσκόποι, oi τὰς χειροτονίας ἐπισκοποῦντες (“observateurs des mains: ceux qui observent les votes à main levée“). Le rôle de ces responsables était identique a celui des proédres athéniens.

422

PHILIPPE GAUTHIER

1) En Messenie, à Kardamyle (sur la côte orientale du golfe), un décret tardif (I* s.a.C. ?) honore un bienfaiteur et lui décerne divers privilèges. Le texte du

décret proprement dit se termine à la 1. 17. Puis, après un vacat, figurent les indications

suivantes:

Χειροσκόποι

ἐπὶ τὸ ψήφισμα:

Πρατόνεικος

᾿Αγίππου,

Περιγένης Φιλογένους, ᾿Εράτων Σωσικλέος (“Observateurs des mains pour le decret: Pratoneikos fils d’Agippos, Périgénés fils de Philogénés, Eratön fils de Sösikles”); et plus loin: ἔδοξε (“adopté”).® La précision ἐπὶ τὸ ψήφισμα pourrait

suggérer, il me semble, que les trois responsables avaient été désignés tout exprès, avant que l’Assernblée ne passe au vote. Ce ne seraient pas des ma-

gistrats en fonction pour un mois, un semestre ou un an, mais des responsables désignés en chaque occasion. Je laisse cette question ouverte. En tout cas, ce

furent ces trois personnages qui, après avoir constaté une majorité favorable (voire

l'unanimité),

annoncerent

ou

firent

annoncer

par

le héraut:

ἔδοξε

(“adopté”). Pour le lecteur moderne, l’adoption d’un décret antique, dans la très grande majorité des cas, se déduit seulement, pierre (ou sur le bronze).

mais sûrement,

Il arrive cependant,

comme

de la gravure sur la dans l’exemple pré-

cédent, que le secrétaire ait ajouté, à la suite du texte de la proposition et après le vote, une mention comme

ἔδοξε (“adopté”), ἐδόθη

(“accordé”), ἐκυρώθη

(“ratifié”) ou κύριον (“validé”)? Lorsque le décret avait fait l’objet d’un vote secret par “jeton”, le secrétaire pouvait indiquer ın fine le nombre des votes favorables et le nombre des votes défavorables (parfois seulement le premier), voire faire mention de l’adoption à l’unanimité des votes, ἔδοξε πάσαις (ταῖς

yiborc).!° Rien de tel à propos des décrets adoptés par un vote à main levée (sinon, éventuellement, la mention de l’unanimité). Le contraste est démonstratif: lors des chetrotoniai, les voix n’étaient pas comptées. 2) En Arcadie, deux décrets abrégés d’Orchomene

(III s.a.C.) mentionnent

à la fin le nom du magistrat éponyme (pour la date), celui du “président de l’Assemblée” (προστάτας ἁλιαίας) et celui du chetroskopos, ici unique; l’un des

deux décrets nomme aussi le secretaire.'' Devrait-on s’étonner de ce que le cheiroskopos n’apparaisse, à Orchomene,

que dans deux décrets et faudrait-il

croire dès lors au caractère épisodique de la fonction de ce personnage? En fait, nous ne disposons pour cette cité que d’une dizaine de documents analogues, dont

certains

sont

incomplets

à la fin (là où

sont

mentionnés

les divers

responsables); d’autre part, le formulaire n’en est pas immuable: à l'exemple du cheiroskopos, le président de l’Assernblee, le président du Conseil (προστάτας BwAac)

et le secrétaire sont nommés

cieuse. Et il y a d’autres variantes.

ou non, de façon apparemment

capri-

“JUGES DES MAINS” DANS LES CITES HELLENISTIQUES

423

3) P. Paris, le fouilleur d’Elatée en Phocide, a publié il y a plus d’un siécle un curieux document, sans doute du I” s.a.C., demeuré depuis sans parallele.'? H. Swoboda commentait: “C’est en réalité un acte d’affranchissement, mais sous la forme d’un décret”.’’ Pour une raison qui n’apparait pas clairement (le statut de la requérante?), le peuple d’Elatée s’associe à une femme, Ménékleia fille de Lamprön, pour affranchir un certain Stéphanos, qui était auparavant

l’esclave du père. En quelque sorte, le peuple ratifie ou authentifie la décision

de Menekleia.'* L’opération a comporté

deux étapes. D’abord,

accédant a la requéte de

Ménékleia, le Conseil a délibéré, puis a émis un vote favorable: “que Stéphanos ... soit libre et qu’on inscrive son affranchissement dans le sanctuaire d’Athena Kranaia au nom de Ménékleia et au nom de la cité, si du moins (la

proposition) est adoptée aussi dans l’Assemblée du peuple”. Les Conseillers ont voté a main levée et il est précisé qu’ “était cheiroskopos au Conseil Xénodokos fils de Théognis”, ll. 8-9, ἐν τοῖς συνέδροις χειροσκόπος Ξενόδοκος Θεόγνιος. Ensuite, le peuple a approuvé la résolution du Conseil, mais cette fois par un vote secret par “jeton”, Il. 17-18, γενομένης ψαφοφορίας κατὰ τὸν

νόμον. Le chetroskopos a donc officié seulement au Conseil. Dans une petite cité comme

Elatée, le Conseil ne devait pas comprendre plus que quelques

dizaines de membres

et l’on pourrait se demander

si un “observateur

des

mains” y était bien nécessaire. Mais une telle question, je crois, serait déplacée. Car il faut moins considérer la difficulté de la tâche, effectivement variable, que la responsabilité examen

du

personnage.

Le

cheiroskopos

avait

seul

qualité,

après

des mains, pour valider ou invalider une décision, quel que für le

nombre des votants. Il est vraisemblable qu’ à Élatée le cheiroskopos (le même, ou un autre désigné par le peuple) officiait aussi à l’Assemblée (on l’apprendrait si les Elatéens n’avaient pas recouru, en l’espèce, à la psephophoria).

Il. La Carie En Carie sont attestés des “juges des mains”, χειροκρίται. Le second terme du composé rappelle la tâche confié aux proédres athéniens (τὰς χειροτονίας κρίνουσιν, cf. supra). 1) À Magnésie du Méandre ont été gravées l’une à côté de l’autre, sur un bloc

appartenant à un mur au sud de l’agora, deux listes de chetrokritat, datant sans doute du début du I” s.a.C. Leur intitulé est le suivant: (a) “Sous Meleagros

(stéphanèphore) pour la seconde fois, en Kouréôn, juges des mains, de la tribu Hestias: Kallikratès fils de Charidèmos, également institué proboulos” (suivent

424

PHILIPPE GAUTHIER

11 autres noms); (Ὁ) “Sous Eupolémos, au mois Pallé6n, juges des mains, de la tribu Héphaistias” (suivent 10 noms).’® On voit que les 10 ou 12 chetrokrizat appartiennent chaque fois à la même tribu

et sont

en fonction

pour

un

mois.'’

Chaque

tribu,

à tour de

rôle,

désignait (ou soumettait au vote du peuple) 10-12 de ses membres, qui avaient pour mission de “juger”

les mains

à l’Assemblée.

Celle-ci se réunissait au

moins une fois par mois, à des dates d’ailleurs variables. Or, l'intitulé des décrets de Magnésie du Méandre, au IT et au IF s.a.C.,

contient, après l’indication du stéphanèphore éponyme et de la date (mois et jour), les précisions suivantes, e.g. [. Magnesia 4: ᾿Απολλωνιὰς φυλὴ npolri-

peuev: προέδρων ἐπεστάτείι Σάτυρος" ἐγραμμάτευεν ᾿Απολλόδωρος Κάρνωπος (“la tribu Apollonias exergait la présidence; Satyros était épistate des proédres, Apollodöros fils de Karnôps était secrétaire”). Il semble bien que, comme à Athènes peu aprés 350, à Magnésie du Méandre une tribu était chargée, chaque mois, d’assurer le bon ordre à l’Assemblee.'? C’était vraisemblablement au sein de cette méme tribu qu’étaient recrutés les cheirokrita:. Mais, de même qu’à Athènes “la tribu qui préside”

(ἡ προεδρεύουσα φυλή) n'est pas à con-

fondre avec les proëdres issus du Conseil, qui formaient le bureau de l’Assemblée, de méme “la tribu qui préside” 4 Magnésie du Méandre doit étre

distinguée, il me semble, des proédres et de leur épistate.? Comme

leurs

homonymes athéniens, ces derniers présidaient les débats, veillant au respect de l’ordre du jour, ἃ la mise en délibération et ἃ la mise aux voix. Reste l’énigmatique proboulos, mentionné (une fois) en tête des chetrokritai (supra inscr. a). Une autre inscription, trouvée a proximite de la precedente, se lit (Z Magnesia 111): ἐπὶ στεφανηφόρου Αἰσχίνου, μηνὸς ᾿Αγνεῶνος, πρόβουλος Πόπλιος Πατούλκιος Λευκίου υἱός, φυλῆς Διάδος, γναφεύς (“sous le stephanéphore

Aischinés, au mois Hagneön, (était) proboulos P. Patoulkios (Patulcius] fils de Leukios, de la tribu Dias, foulon”). L’éditeur, Otto Kern, rapprocha les deux inscriptions et écrivit en note: “wohl proboulos der cheirokritai.” Il songeait donc

à un personnage jouissant d’une sorte de préséance parmi les que suggère le fait que dans la liste de 110 a Kallikratés premier). Mais il est difficile de préciser, et même d’imaginer consisté le privilège: appartenait-il au proboulos d'attribuer à collègues

le secteur

de

l’Assemblée

qu’il

devait

observer

cheirokntai (ce soit nommé le en quoi aurait chacun de ses

lors du

vote

(à

Magnésie du Meandre, d’après le nombre de votes indiqué lors des psephophonai, les citoyens présents à l’Assemblée étaient plus de 3000, voire de 4000) ? Ou bien était-ce lui qui, après avoir délibéré avec ses pairs, prononçait le

“jugement” des cheirokritai? I] paraît vain de multiplier les conjectures. Seul un nouveau document permettra peut-être un jour de définir les fonctions de ce

proboulos.?

“JUGES DES MAINS" DANS LES CITES HELLENISTIQUES

425

2) Quatre documents de Mylasa mentionnent des chetrokritai. Un décret mutilé

du I s.a.C., émanant sans doute du peuple, honore un citoyen qui avait assumé avec dévouement et droiture plusieurs fonctions, dont celle-ci: “[ayant été

élu]

par

le peuple

juge

des

mains

[—-],

il s’est

montré

impartial

et

[incorruptible“?].7? Un autre décret honorifique, encore plus mutilé, évoque

un “juge des mains élu par le peuple”, qui “lors des votes à main levée” (ἐν ταῖς

γινομέναις xeıporofviaıg])) avait sans doute, lui aussi, fait preuve d’équité.® Un décret de la tribu des Otorcondes

honore

l’un de ses membres,

qui avait

assumé diverses fonctions: “ayant été élu (par le peuple) juge des mains de

nouveau il [s’est comporté?] avec équité et justice”.* Attribué d’abord

à Karyanda

(au sud-ouest de Bargylia), mais émanant

vraisemblablement d’une tribu (les Otorcondes?) de Mylasa, un décret de la basse époque hellénistique honore, lui aussi, un citoyen qui avait été cheirokn-

τὸς: “ayant été élu par le peuple juge des mains, il s’est comporté avec [équité] et justice, sans nuire à un ennemi

ni [avantager?]

un ami contrairement au

droit”. J'ai cité, sans craindre les répétitions, les formules utilisées a Mylasa: elles montrent quelles qualités étaient exigés des cheirokritai et laissent deviner de quelles

tentations

ces

responsables

devaient

se

garder.

Les

modernes

pourraient juger immérités les éloges décernés par les Anciens aux chetrokritat. C'est qu'ils lisent surtout des décrets honorifiques, lesquels étaient presque toujours gravés et nous sont donc parvenus en grand nombre. Or ces décrets

étaient le plus souvent adoptés par une très large majorité, sinon par la totalité, des présents. Mais il n’en allait pas nécessairement de même pour les autres décisions

soumises

diacheirotonia

aux

Assemblées,

ordinairement

sous

la forme

d’une

(faut-il approuver ou rejeter telle proposition? choisir la pro-

position A ou la proposition B?). Ces décisions, qui ne donnaient pas lieu à la

gravure d’un texte mais qui occupaient la plus grande partie des séances, venaient parfois en conclusion de débats animés et pouvaient être sanctionnées par des votes aux résultats incertains. Alors devaient se manifester l’intégrité

et l’impartialité des cheirokritai.

III. La Thessalie

Ayant en mémoire les exemples de Magnésie du Méandre et de Mylasa, on peut revenir en Grèce péninsulaire et interpréter un autre groupe de témoignages. En Thessalie, la petite cité de Gonnoi honore à plusieurs reprises, au II"

s.a.C., des juges étrangers venus régler les procès pendants entre citoyens. Elle leur décerne divers privilèges civiques, dont le droit de cité potentiel,

426

PHILIPPE GAUTHIER

politeia ou tsopoliteia. Puis elle prévoit la transcription du décret sur une stèle

et la consécration de celle-ci dans un sanctuaire, enfin l’envoi d’une copie du

décret à la cité des juges. Parfois, le texte gravé se termine là.’ Cependant, a six reprises, figure une addition, que je cite d’après le n° 74 (décret pour des juges venus de Phères): καὶ τοῦτο κύριον' κριταί: Λυσίμαχος Σίμμου, Ξενοκράτης Οἰνίου, Μελάντας Σίμωνος (“et ce décret est validé; juges: Lysimachos fils de Simos, Xenocrates fils de d’Oiniadas, Mélantas fils de Simôn”).* Br. Helly traduit κριταί par “jurés” et suppose

qu’il s’agissait de la rati-

fication du décret par un tribunal civique de trois membres.” Une procédure de ce genre, en effet, est attestée, 4 propos de la concession de la polizeia ou

d’autres privilèges, dans diverses cités, en particulier à Athenes.” Cependant, au sujet de Gonnoi, une telle hypothèse ne convient pas. Car, dans les textes

invoqués à l’appui, la formulation est différente. Les rédacteurs y prévoient (ainsi à Athènes et à Milet) la ratification ulténeure par le tribunal. En outre, ils mentionnent simplement “le tribunal”, τὸ δικαστήριον, que connaissent bien tous les citoyens, et non pas nommément tel et tel juges. D'autre part, il est clair que les indications reproduites plus haut ne font pas

corps avec la proposition de décret, mais qu’elles constituent une addition, insérée occasionnellement par le secrétaire après la ratification (“et ce décret est validé“).

L'hypothèse la plus simple est donc la suivante: le vote qui “valide” ou “ratifie” la proposition est celui de l’Assemblée elle-même, comme on en a de nombreux exemples;*! et les trois kritat nommément désignés, à Gonnoi, sont des responsables analogues aux cheirokrıtai de Magnésie du Méandre

et de

Mylasa, des “juges (des mains)” désignés soit pour telle Assemblée, soit pour une période déterminée. S’il est clair que chetrokntes (ou kritès à Gonnoi)

et chetroskopos sont deux

appellations correspondant à des fonctions identiques, l’éventail de la documentation hellénistique est d’ores et déja assez large pour qu’on aperçoive ou devine la diversité des institutions selon les cités. Il y avait à Magnésie Méandre

un

collège, à Élatée et à Orchomène

un responsable

unique.

du A

Kardamylè, en Messénie, les trois chetroskopot mentionnés à la fin d’un décret avaient peut-être été désignés pour le vote de ce décret, ou pour l’Assemblée

où ce décret fut proposé. Peut-être en allait-il de même à Gonnoi. De manière différente, à Magnésie

du Meandre,

les cherrokntaï, désignés

au sein de la

même tribu, étaient mensuels. À Mylasa, le cheirokritès semble être un véritable magistrat, “élu par le peuple”, peut-être à raison d’un par tribu (on retrouverait alors un collège de trois membres) et peut-être pour un an. De nouveaux

documents viendront compléter peu à peu un tableau encore à l’état d’é-

“JUGES DES MAINS” DANS LES CITES HELLENISTIQUES

427

bauche.” II est sûr, en tout cas, que les “mains” à l’Assemblée n’étaient pas comptées, pas plus dans les cités hellénistiques que dans l’Athènes classique,

mais qu’elles étaient “observées” et “jugées”.

BIBLIOGRAPHIE Blum, G. & Plassart, A. 1914. “Orchomene d'Arcadie. Topographie, architecture, sculpture, menus objets,” BCH 38: 71-88.

Dubois, L. 1986. Recherches sur le dialecte arcadien. II. Corpus dialectal (Louvain-la-Neuve). Gauthier, P. 1990, “Quorum et participation civique dans les démocraties grecques,” dans Nicolet (1990) 73-99. Hansen, M.H. 1977. “How Did the Athenian Ecclesia Vote?” GRBS 18: 123-137. Hansen, M.H. 1983. The Athenian Ecclesia. A Collection of Articles 1976-83 (Copenhagen). Herrmann, P. 1965. “Neue Urkunden zur Geschichte von Milet im 2. Jahrhundert v. Chr.,” IsıMie 15: 71-117. Jones, ΝΕ. 1987. Public Organization in Ancient Greece. A Documentary Study, Memoirs of the American Philosophical Society 176 (Philadelphia). Laumonier, A. 1934. “Inscripuons de Carie,” BCH 58: 291-380. Laumonier, A. 1958. Les cultes indigènes en Carte (Paris). Nicolet, Cl. (ed.). 1990. Du pouvoir dans l'Antiquité: mots et réalités (Geneva). Osborne, M.J.

1983. Naturalizanon in Athens IV (Brussels).

Paris, P. 1887. “Inscriptions du temple d’Athéna Cranaia,” BCH 11: 318-346. Radle, H. 1969. Untersuchungen zur griechischen Freilassungswesen (diss. Munich). Robert, L. 1927. “Etudes d’épigraphie grecque,” RPhil 1: 97-132. Robert, L. 1943-44. “Voyages épigraphiques en Asie Mineure,” RPhil 17-18: 170-201. Robert, L. 1960. “Décret de Lébédos pour un juge de Samos,” Hellenica 11-12: 204-213. Robert, L. 1963. “Nouvelles inscriptions d’Iasos,” REA 65: 298-329 (=Opera Minora Selecta III no. 82). Robert, L. 1966. Monnaies anngues en Troade (Paris). Samuel, A.E. 1972. Greek and Roman Chronology. Calendars and Years in Classical Antiquity (Munich). Swoboda, H. 1890. Die griechischen Volksbeschlüsse (Leipzig). Valmin, N.S. 1929. “Inscriptions de la Messenie,” Bulletin de la Société Royale des Lettres de Lund 1928-1929 (Lund) 108-155. Wilhelm, Ad. 1931. “Lesefrüchte,” Byzantion 6: 459-468.

PHILIPPE GAUTHIER

428

NOTES Hansen (1977), étude reprise dans Hansen (1983)

103-117 (avec d’utiles additions,

118-121);

N

je citerai ci-dessous les pages de ce volume. Hansen (1983)

110 et 118.

SF SR

Hansen (1983) 113-114. Hansen (1983)

108 n. 17.

Dans l’ordre géographique du Bulletin émigraphique, sauf pour Gonnoi, dont je waite en dernier. Cf. Laumonier (1934) 319-320, avec les références. J'ajoute seulement l'exemple de Gonnoi.

Gauthier (1990), en particulier 90-94. De nouveaux témoignages étant apparus depuis la rédaction de cette étude, j'en donnerai ailleurs une version complétée et révisée. IG V.1 1331 + Valmin (1929) 149-151; cf. P. Roussel, BE 1930, 196; Wilhelm (1931) 465 (SEG 11 948). L'éditeur du nouveau fragment, N. Valmin, croyait à tort que les cheiroskopor n'étaient attestés qu'ici; il se mompait encore en voyant dans ces responsables des “compteurs de mains” pendant les votes.

Voir les pages classiques d’Ad. Wilhelm, Neue Beiträge VI (1921) 4-9 (Akademisschrifien I, 295-300) et de Robert (1963) 304-307; également J. & L. Robert, BE 1959, 259 (Ὁ. 214). Les publications récentes ont apporté de nouveaux exernples, ainsi ἃ Adramyttion (SEG 37 1006) et à Kymé (I.Kyme 13, 54-56; H. Malay, EA 2 [1983] 1, 30); à propos de Gonnoi, voir ınfra. Exemples de telles formules dans les &rudes citées supra n. 7 (95-96 n. 95) ern. 9. 11.

12.

Blum & Plassart (1914) 459-461, n° 4 et 5; repris par Dubois (1986) 166-168. Le n° 4 octroie la proxénie à Kléophaës de Kaphyai; le n° 5 n'est pas un décret de proxénie (sic les edd.), il décerne à un étranger le droit de propriété et l’azeleia. Paris (1887) 337, n° 10; inscription rééditée par W. Dittenberger, d’abord dans 10 IX 1 109, puis dans Syl.’ 842

13. 14.

(avec d'utiles notes); le texte aussi, avec traduction et commentaire,

dans

R.

Dareste, B. Haussoullier, & Th. Reinach, Recued des inscriptions juridiques grecques II, 316-318, Swoboda (1890) 12. Voir les commentaires des auteurs cités aux notes précédentes. Rädie (1969) 42-43 et 125, ne fait que de vagues allusions à ce texte.

15.

Cf Swoboda (1890) 12.

16.

I. Magnesia 110 a & 6. Je cite seulement le début de 110 a: [ἐ1πα) Μελεάγρου τὸ δεύτερον. Κουρεῶνος, χειροκρίται φυλῆς ‘Eariéboc Καλλικράτης Χαριδήμου ὁ καὶ καθεσταμένος πρόβουλος, ᾿Ηρόστρατος ᾿Αναξαγόρου κτλ.

17.

Sur les douze tribus de Magnesie du Méandre, voir Jones (1987) 315-317. On connait le nom des douze mois dans certe cité, mais l'ordre en est mal établi, cf. ©. Kern dans et Samuel (1972) 121-122.

18.

f. Magnesia Ὁ. 217,

C'est du moins ce qui ressort de Pexamen des dates indiquées dans l'intitulé des décrets, certains d’entre eux ayant pu être adoptés lors d’Assembiées supplémentaires convoquées.

19,

Au sujet d'Athènes, voir Hansen

20. 21.

Contra Jones (1987) 317.

(1983) 30-32 et 116.

H. Schaefer, RE XXII (1957) 1230 (s.v. probowlos), a rejeté l'hypothèse d’Orto Kern et a supposé qu'en 110 a Kallikratès était en même temps “juge des mains” et proboulos, c'est-à-dire membre d'une commission restreinte représentant le Conseil. Mais, les inscriptions 110 et 111 muses à part, il n'y a pas la moindre allusion à des probeuloi dans les textes de Magnésie du Méandre, de sorte que cette hypothèse est en l’air. En outre, le rapprochement proposé par H. Schaefer avec IGRR ΤΙ 1019 (Arados), interprété par Robert (1943-44) 183-184, n’a aucune valeur. Jones (1987) 317 ne se prononce pas, mais semble suivre O. Kern.

22.

I.Mylasa

132, 23-24: [αἱρεθεὶς 5% ὑπὸ τοῦ δήμου (χ)ειροκρίτης -— (lacune assez longue)

[παρέσχηται] ἑαυτὸν ἀνερίθευτον καὶ ἰἀδωροδόκητον").

23.

1.Mylasa 139, 12-14. I. Mylasa

118, 17: αἱρεθεὶς δὲ [καὶ] χειροκρίτης πάλιν ἴσως καὶ δικαίως [(dveotpahn?).

—

“JUGES DES MAINS” DANS LES CITES HELLENISTIQUES 25.

429

LBWn° 499 (Karyanda); le texte a été partiellement restitué par Robert (1927) 124-125 (= Opera Minora U, 1079-1080). Dès 1932, le même Robert indiquait que cette inscription était une “pierre errante” (Opera Minora I, 229), qu’il attribuait & Mylasa (cf. Robert [1966] 74). De son cété, Laumonier (1958) 113-114 a proposé d’y voir un décret de la tribu des Otorcondes (d’où W. Blümel, J. Mylasa I, Appendix pp. 269-270). J'ai revu la pierre, qui se trouve au musée du Louvre, et j'en publierai une photographie, avec diverses observations. A la fin du passage cité (ll. 15-16), je coupe et restitue d'après les formules analogues des serments: χειροτονηθεὶς δὲ ὑπὸ τοῦ δήμον καὶ χιειροκρίτης ἴσως καὶ δικαίως ἀνεστράφη οὔτε ἐκχθρὸν βλάπτων οὔτε φίλον παρὰ τὸ [δίκαιον ὠφελῶν), Cf. déjà P, Chameux, BCH 121 (1997) 168 n. 86.

26.

Gonnoi II, 70-99, n° 68-92.

21.

Ainsi, avec des variantes, les n° 69, 70, et 85 du recueil de Br. Helly. Rappelons que beaucoup

28.

Autres exemples, avec tantôt le seul κύριον, tantôt καὶ τοῦτο κύριον: n™ 71, 80, 82, 88, 92. Br. Helly, Gonna IL, 99, écrit: “Les jurés, κριταί, qui valident le décret, n’apparaissent que dans les textes de cette catégorie” (sc. dans les décrets pour des juges étrangers}; et dans le vol. I, 144: “Un tribunal de trois membres appelés κριταί était chargé de ratifier les décrets.” I] renvoie notamment à DAMM 56 et n. 2.

de ces décrets sont réduits à l'état de fragments. 29.

30.

Cf. Osborne (1983) 164-167. Au sujet de Milet, d’Oropos et d’Halicarnasse, voir P. Herrmann (1965) 88-89 avec les notes, On peut ajouter à présent l'exemple de Kos, M. Segre, Jscr. Cos (1993), ED 180, ll. 35-37 (cf. BE 1995, 448 p. 503).

31.

CF. supra notes 9 et 10.

32.

Présentons ici une conjecture au sujet de Samos hellénistique. Deux documents gravés dans cette cité montrent que le président de l’Assemblée, avant de prendre ses fonctions, “prétait serment conformément à la loi”, cf. Robert (1960) 207-209. Or cet épistate était seul habilité à “mettre aux voix” (ἐπιψηφίζειν) les propositions, cf. Syl.’ 976 (règlement sur le grain), 88-89. Le rapprochement des deux indications pourrait suggérer, il me semble, que l’&pistate, responsable de

la mise aux voix, était également chargé de “juger” les mains et de faire proclamer le résultat des votes (voir plus haut les textes de Mylasa évoquant l'intégrité des cherrokniraï et usant de formules analogues à celles des serments).

The Phantom Synedrion of the Boiotian Confederacy 378-335 BC JOHN BUCKLER

Mogens Herman Hansen doubtless knows more about the actual workings of the Athenian democracy than did the Athenians themselves, so only the foolhardy would offer him an Athenian tribute on his birthday. A Boionan gift, however, especially given his research in the area, seems both suitable and relatively safe - and one that I hope will interest him. D.M. Lewis ([1990] 71-73) has lately clouded the subject of the political ties

linking the Boiotian Confederacy with its allies during the Theban Hegemony. ' He argues against the conclusion of J. Buckler ([1980] 222-233) that the Boiotians never built “some formal machinery or synod of allies” to formulate and direct a common foreign policy. Lewis relies on a passage from Xenophon (Hell. 7.3.11) and the Boiotian inscription 10 VII 2418 to claim that the Boiotians did in fact create a synedrion with allied synedroi quite similar in nature to that established by the Athenians

in their Confederacy

of 377

BC.

He

admits, however, that the Boiotians did not include their allies on the mainland in this synednion, but without explaining why they should have built a body that

included their Peloponnesian allies while excluding the others. When he ignores the significance of Boiotia’s northern allies, he also neglects a major aspect of Boiotia’s broader foreign policy and Buckler’s interpretation of it, without which understanding much of his attempted refutation falls. Nor does he attempt to explain how the Byzantines became involved in this purported

Boiotio-Peloponnesian synedrion. Although some historians share Lewis’ views,’ many others reject them,’ which justifies a re-examination of the topic.

Lewis cites one passage from Xenophon argument,

yet this single episode

as the only support for his first

is really only a fraction of the evidence

concerning the adventures of Euphron of Sikyon.* By trying to make the whole

from one part, Lewis misunderstands the entire issue. At Hellenika 7.3.4-12

432

JOHN BUCKLER

Xenophon narrates the assassination of Euphron at Thebes and the trial of one of his assassins. The trial was heard before the archontes and boule in Thebes. When Euphron’s murderers were arraigned, one defendant justified his actions on the grounds that the Thebans had voted that exiles should be subject to extradition from all cities of the alliance, and he further claimed that an exile

who returned without a general resolution of the allies should be deserving of death: ἐψηφίσασθε δήπου τοὺς φυγάδας ἀγωγίμους εἶναι ἐκ πασῶν τῶν συμμαχίδων. ὅστις δὲ ἄνευ κοινοῦ τῶν συμμάχων δόγματος κατέρχεται φυγάς, τοῦτον

ἔχοι τις ἂν εἰπεῖν ὅπως οὐ δίκαιόν ἐστιν ἀποθνήσκειν (“You voted, I presume, that exiles are liable to seizure in all of the allied states. Such an exile returns without a common decree of the allies. Can anyone say in what way it is unjust to kill such a mane”). R. Schneider (1860)

16-17 considers πασῶν τῶν cup-

μαχίδων (“all of the allied states”) an interpolation, in which he is not followed by Hude

(1969)

ad loc. The trial of the assassin is, however, only the final

episode of the story, which is inseparable from the beginning, the institutional and legal details of which are essential to the proper understanding of these events. After Leuktra the Boiotians established their complex of alliances in at least two stages, the first encompassing the Phokians, Aitolians, and Lokrians (Diod. 15.57.1).

Probably at or near this time they included the Euboians,

nanians, Herakleots, and Malians 62.4).

In late 370

BC,

Akar-

(Xen. Hell. 6.5.23; Ages. 2.24; Diod.

the last stage, they entered

into alliance with

Eleians, Argives, and Arkadians (Xen. Hell, 6.5.19; Diod.

15. the

15.62.3). These

combined allies met in Arkadia at the end of December 370 BC to plan and execute the first invasion of Lakonia. Especially enlightening at this point is Plutarch (Pel. 24), which Lewis overlooks, where he states that Pelopidas and

Epameinondas led the allies by their glory, not by a common resolution or law (ἄνευ δόγματος κοινοῦ Kal ψηφίσματος; “without a common decree and vote”). Instead of mentioning the existence of a synedrion, he emphasizes (24.3) that the two Thebans first persuaded their fellow bosotarchoi to lead the invasion,

whereupon the allies agreed to follow. At 24.8 Plutarch speaks of the Argives, Eleians,

and

Arkadians

in

their

synedna

sometimes

quarrelling

with

the

Thebans over hegemony (᾿Αργεῖοι καὶ ᾿Ηλεῖοι καὶ ᾿Αρκάδες, ἐν τοῖς συνεδρίοις ἐρίζοντες καὶ διαφερόμενοι πρὸς τοὺς Θηβαίους ὑπὲρ ἡγεμονίας; “The Argives,

Eleians, and Arkadians quarrelling in their councils and voting in different ways against the Thebans over hegemony”), and in this instance he clearly means individual assemblies of the three states. These powers each take their own counsel individually. Their three synedria are not combined as a unit, and they do not meet jointly as a unit with the Thebans. Plutarch’s entire point is that the Boiotians led this alliance solely in their capacity as its hegemon, and

THE PHANTOM SYNEDRION OF THE ΒΟΙΟΤΙΑΝ CONFEDERACY thus he provides evidence that from the very outset of Boiotian and

433 allied

operations no synedrion of any sort united them.’

The subsequent history of the Boiotian alliance, far from indicating the existence of such a synednion, proves unquestionably instead that the Boiotians preferred to direct their foreign affairs without one. They did not consult their Peloponnesian allies before Epameinondas’ third Peloponnesian campaign. Rather, Epameinondas persuaded the Argives to secure Mt. Oneion to facilitate an invasion that he had already decided (Xen. Hell. 7.1.41). His last

campaign further proves the lack of a federal synedrion. He announced his intentions to the allies, whereupon the Arkadians sent ambassadors urging him to forbear. They consulted him direct rather than voicing their objections before a meeting of a synedrion (Xen. Hell. 7.4.40-5.3). Instead of consulting

with his allies in 362 BC he summoned them, but to find the Phokians refusing the order because they had only a defensive alliance with the Boiotians (Xen. Hell. 7.4.40-49, 5.4-5). They did not, significantly enough, refuse in a meeting of a synedrion. Quite telling is the basic clause of the Boiotian alliance with the

Achaians in which they swore to follow wherever the Boiotians led, a familiar treaty clause (Xen. Hell. 7.1.42; see also 2.2.20, 3.1.5; 5.3.26). From these facts stems the conclusion that the Boiotians preferred to act as the hegemon of

the alliance, for which they neither wanted nor thought that they needed a synedrion. The flaw in their thinking was demonstrated by the Arkadian Lykomedes, who resented the Boiotian hegemony of the alliance (Xen. Hell. 7.1.39). The basis of his objections on that occasion was that all discussion of

peace should be held at the seat of the war, which presumably derived from a clause or notion of some alliances that in joint operations of allied armies command of them should be held by the state in whose territory the allies campaigned. This challenge, of course, struck to the heart of hegemonia in its original military sense. Nonetheless, the Boiotians refused to recognize it and never relinquished their position as hegemon of the alliance, not in the Peloponnesos nor in northern Greece. The Boiotian alliance, then, was similar to the earlier large alliance of the Athenians with the Argives, Mantineians, and Eleians established in 420 BC (Bengtson

[1975]

193). That symmachy

too agreed upon certain details of

military leadership and co-operation without forming a synednon. In 362 BC the Athenians joined with the Arkadians, Achaians, Eleians, and Phleiasians to create a similar, but simpler, alliance; and even though by then they had the

Athenian Confederacy for a model, they again refrained from establishing a synedrion. The mere creation of such a large, multi-state alliance did not of itself entail or require an organized federal synedrion.

434

JOHN BUCKLER

The Boiotians and their allies won control of Sikyon in 369 BC after the

creation of the general alliance.’ In 368 BC Euphron approached the Argives and Arkadians with a plan to overthrow the ancestral government of Sikyon, which the Boiotians had obviously left undisturbed when they brought the city into their alliance (Xen. Hell. 7.1.44). They had, however, left a harmost in

control of Sikyon, but this officer had not interfered in local affairs and refrained from doing so now.“ Euphron made a compact with the Argives and Arkadians that if they would support him in creating a democratic government in Sikyon, he would make his countrymen their allies. This alliance is clearly

separate from the general Boiotian alliance of 370 BC and not simply a confirmation of the existing treaty of 369 BC. The pact was between Euphron on the one hand and the Argives and the Arkadians on the other. Xenophon says nothing

about

Boiotian

involvement

in this agreement,

nor can

one

automatically assume it on the strength of the assassin’s tendentious assertion. Once Euphron had established himselfin power, he executed some of the proSpartan element and banished others from Sikyon. Although Xenophon (Hell.

7.3.3) avers that Euphron claimed that he alone exiled the pro-Spartans, the responsibility lay with the Sikyonian people (Xen. Hell. 7.3.2), who steadfastly endorsed his actions and treated him as the second founder of the city (Xen. Hell. 7.3.12). Euphron also accomplished everything with the full approval of

his Peloponnesian allies, as Xenophon’s narrative makes abundantly clear. Thus,

from the start of Euphron’s career his alliance with the Argives and

Arkadians was intimately connected with the problem of the Sikyonian exiles, who continued to mount a constant threat to his regime (Xen. Hell. 7.2.1-10;

7.3.1). Threats

from

exiles

to new

governments

were

common

in the

fourth

century; and confronted with these situations, the principals often included a

clause in the treaty of alliance specifically regulating the treatment of exiles. For example, the Athenians and Erythraians agreed that anyone exiled from Erythrai should be considered banished

from all the cities of the Athenian

alliance (JG I’ 14.30-31). Similarly, the Athenians and Thasians in 390 BC

agreed that exiles from one city were to be exiles from all other allied cities UG Il’ 24.4-6), and another between the Athenians and the Klazomenians in 387 BC stipulated that the latter should independently decide upon the treatment of exiles (IG II? 28.9-13). Both treaties preceded the creation of the Athenian Confederacy of 377 BC, and thus before the establishment of its synedrion. More sweeping is the so-called charter of that Confederacy, where the exiles of one state are considered the exiles of all allied states (JG II? 43.56-61). Different from the above, but nonetheless relevant, is Alexander the Great’s “Letter to the Chians” in which he declares that those exiles who had joined

THE PHANTOM

SYNEDRION OF THE BOIOTIAN CONFEDERACY

435

the barbarians should be banned from all the cities that shared the peace.’ Famous as unilateral proclamations are that of the Spartans concerning the Athenian

exiles of 404 BC

and that of the Peloponnesians

concerning the

Thebans of 382 BC.'’ A clause governing the treatment of exiles is to be expected in the alliance between Euphron and the Argives and Arkadians, especially with the pro-Spartan exiles posing such a constant threat to the new democratic government. Here, then, is the most reasonable time for a provision

concerning them, but again there is nothing in Xenophon’s narrative to prove that the Boiotians were also a party to it except for the lone allegation of Euphron’s murderer. The events surrounding Euphron’s assassination must be scrutinized within

this historical context. Of immediate concerm is the identity of the archontes and boule at Thebes in 366 BC. Another is to determine to what synedrion the assassin refers and the nature of Sikyon’s connection with it. Concerning the

first matter, some background on Boiotian archontes and boulai is as welcome as necessary. In the Confederacy dissolved by the King’s Peace of 386 BC its constituent

cities were

governed

by four local doula: that sat in turn, one

serving as prytanis in each session (Hell. Oxy.

19.2). Federal affairs were the

prerogative of boulai, apparently also four in number, that represented the whole people and met in assembly on the Kadmeia.'' The local bouai survived the dissolution of the Confederacy, as is proven by the events of 382 BC and

379 BC. Theban government was then in the hands of three polemarchoi and a secretary.'? In 382 BC the Theban Leontiades conspired with the Spartan Phoibidas

to seize the

Kadmeia,

from

which

coup

several

details become

apparent. Leontiades was a polemarchos, and as such possessed the power to arrest anyone whose activities deserved the death-penalty (Xen. Hell. 5.2.30, 32). Under his bidding were lochagai who served as a police force. The culprit

was then bound over for trial. Leontiades took this opportunity to arrest his political opponent Hismenias, whom he arraigned, not before the local court, but before a special one convened by the Spartans (Xen. Hell. 5.2.35). The

reason for this unusual tribunal for Hismenias was his reputed crimes against all the Greeks

(Xen.

Hell. 5.2.33-36).

In 379 BC

the government

of three

polemarchot, secretary, and boule continued to function, but after the liberation of Thebes Pelopidas and his colleagues re-established the boiotarchia. They did

not, however,

abolish the local Theban

government,

which

continued

to

enforce purely Theban laws.'” Given the function of the local boule and the nature of the crime, there is

every reason to conclude that the trial of Euphron’s assassins also took place before the Theban boule and not a federal one. For the sake of clarity this trial can be contrasted with the most famous federal case ofthe Theban Hegemony,

436

JOHN BUCKLER

that of Epameinondas and his fellow bototarchoiin 369 BC.'* These magistrates of the Boiotian Confederacy were all indicted for the federal offense of having illegally prolonged the tenure of their office. Their crime obviously transcended

the jurisdiction of any single constituent city of the Confederacy. These men were accordingly tried before a federal court. Yet the crime charged against the Sikyonians was murder, a local offense. It is ludicrous to assume that homicide was

a federal

felony,

for that

would

mean

that

trials

for

every

murder

committed in Boiotia, whether in Thebes, Hyettos, Kopai or wherever else, against whomever, federal

court

seated

by whomever, at Thebes.

for whatever Instead

reason would

of denying

the

be held in a

formal

charge

of

murder, the principal defendant avoided it by placing the significance of his

deed in the larger context of foreign affairs. He expediency to justify his actions.

He

then averred reasons of

alleged that Euphron’s

duplicity and

treason had harmed all alike and that the man deserved death because of his treachery. Nonetheless,

the defendant’s success in shifting the grounds for

indictment from murder to justifiable homicide does not alter the nature of the court of first instance, which in this case applied the law of equity in preference to rigorous statute law. These details all indicate that the assassin was tried by

Theban polemarchoi before a Theban court. Additional proof of this conclusion comes prosecutor

and

the

defendant

himself.

The

from

former

the

speeches

addressed

of the

his “fellow

citizens” (Xen. Hell. 7.3.6), by whom he means the Thebans, as proven by his

several allusions to the ill repute that the city would receive for condoning open murder (7.3.6). He pleads his case as a purely local matter. The defendant also addressed the Thebans by name, not the Boiotians (7.3.7), and reminded his

listeners of how they had rid themselves of Leontiades’ coterie in 379 BC, which again was a Theban affair.’* Lastly, Xenophon notes (7.3.12) that the Thebans rendered their verdict. Taken together, there should be no doubt that Xenophon

refers only to a Theban

boule, so this episode

cannot

stand

as

evidence for the existence of a federal Boiotian borde.'® With charge

the venue

of the boule decided,

that his murder

of Euphron

was

one

can consider the defendant’s

justified on the grounds

that the

Sikyonian strategos had already broken the law when he returned from exile

without a general decree of the allies.'’ Here finally is the gist of Lewis’ argument. The defendant’s claim that Euphron’s death was proper is actually his interpretation of the dogma and not an expressed clause of it. The question then becomes whether the dogma itself was the defendant’s fabrication or the truth, and if true what Xenophon

meant by it. Xenophon

dogma to decisions of the Peloponnesian League

applies the word

(Hell. 5.2.37; 4.37), of the

Athenian demos (Hell. 6.2.2, 5.12) and boule (Hell. 6.5.33), and a decree of the

THE PHANTOM SYNEDRION OF ΤΗΣ BOIOTIAN CONFEDERACY

437

Mantineians (Heil, 6.5.5). In the Anabasts he regularly employs it to denote the decisions taken by the officers of the Ten Thousand

(3.3.5; 6.4.11, 6.8, 27).

He employs it consistently to signify a decision made by an official body. Seen in this light, the dogma of 7.3.11, if authentic, can only be the one issued by the Sikyonians,

Argives,

and Arkadians

when

they entered

into their separate

alliance, made only after the Boiotian treaties of 370 and 369 BC."* Since the latter compact

was still in effect despite local changes

in government,

the

defendant could have interpreted the acquiescence of the Theban harmost as

endorsement of the new alliance, basing his views on the concept that silence lends assent. If so, he was alone in his assumption. Significantly enough, at no time did the Eleians and Messenians,

much

less the Boiotian allies of the

mainland, feel compelled or obliged to defend Euphron’s government, nor did

they interfere in Sikyonian affairs. The assassin’s claim utterly lacks external support, and it cannot prove the existence of a formal, constitutional synedrion of all Boiotian allies, even of those in the Peloponnesos. It is also noteworthy that the assassin nowhere speaks of a synedrion but only

of a dogma, and the two are not necessarily or inseparably linked. The existence of a synedrion in this matter stems only from the modern assumption that where one finds a dogma, a synedrion must be lurking nearby, which was not found in Xenophon’s use of the word. Moreover, Xenophon’s use of synedrion does not automatically demand that the word dogma be applied to any pronouncement

that a body might make. Xenophon employs synedrion to include the meeting of an informal council of officers (Hell. 1.1.31), usage also found in Diodorus (17.54.3, 7; 19.46.4); a meeting of the Thirty (Hell. 2.4.23); an assembly of

delegates to the abortive general peace conference of 366 BC, which did not, however, constitute an alliance, become a permanent institutional body, or even ratify the peace treaty (Hell. 7.1.39); and lastly a meeting of a circle of friends (Mem. 4.2.3). None of these examples even suggests a formal synedrion

as found in the Athenian Confederacy and as postulated by Lewis, Cargill, and Hornblower. In sum, nothing in the episode of Euphron and its accompanying history

supplies any evidence for a synedrion of the Boiotian Confederacy and its allies, and everything argues against one. Before the discussion proceeds to Lewis’ second main argument, a

final

historical incident deserves mention. In 335 BC Alexander and some of his allies crushed a Theban rebellion and on a vote taken in a synedrion of his allies he destroyed the city. Although this body included Thespians, Plataians, and

Orchomenians (Diod. 17.14.3-4), it was not a synedrion of the Boiotian Confederacy, for it also included Phokians.'” Diodorus (17.14.1) makes it

438

JOHN BUCKLER

quite clear that it was

a rump

synedrion of the League

of Korinth,

hence

irrelevant to the present discussion.

u The second piece of pertinent evidence in Lewis’ argument is /G VII 2418, erected during the Sacred War, which records certain Greek contributions to

the Boiotians to defray the costs of the war.” The inscription lists contributions from Alyzeia and Anaktorion brought to Thebes by their envoys (πρισγεῖες = πρέσβεις, lines 6, 7, 18), from Byzantion brought by their σύνεδροι (lines 11, 24), and by Athanodoros, the Boiotian proxenos from Tenedos (lines 14-15). Alyzeia and Anaktorion were members of the Akarnanian League, which had

become a member of the Athenian Confederacy, but in 370 BC had allied itself with the Boiotian Confederacy.”' Tenedos had re-established friendly relations with Athens when Thrasyboulos was still active in the northern Aegean (389 BC), and it too joined the Athenian Confederacy.”? After Leuktra it remained loyal to Athens and never became a Boiotian ally, which explains why only the Boiotian proxenos there made a contribution. Far more complicated is the case of Byzantion. Editors from Dittenberger (Syil.’ 201 n. 6) to Tod (GHI 178) and historians from Swoboda (1926) 1426 to Bakhuizen (1994) 308 n. 4 have used this inscription to prove that Byzantion had become not only an ally of the Boiotian Confederacy but also Some

support

their supposition

a member of a synedrion of Boiotian allies. by relying on

two

historical events,

Epa-

meinondas’ naval expedition of 364 BC and the Social War of 357 BC, as evidence. The first example is nearly intractable, the second merely difficult. The principal source for Epameinondas’ naval venture is Diodorus (15.78.479.1), in which the historian writes that Epameinondas persuaded the Thebans

to take the hegemony of the sea. The Theban demos accordingly voted him a fleet of 100 triremes and voted also to urge the Rhodians, Chians, and

Byzantines to help them in their designs.” Once at sea, Epameinondas ἰδίας τὰς πόλεις τοῖς Θηβαίοις ἐποίησεν.

The

meaning

of this sentence has been

marked by more debate than agreement. The literal translation is “he made the

cities Thebes’ own”.?* The question becomes how he made them Thebes’ own and in what way. They clearly did not become Boiotian possessions, and Diodorus does not specifically say that they became allies, though that is the

interpretation of Lewis and others.?” Far more telling is the more abundant evidence that Epameinondas achieved nothing on his voyage. Isokrates (5.53), a contemporary of these events, noted that the Thebans sent triremes to Byzantion, “as if they would rule by land and sea”, testimony that they actually

THE PHANTOM SYNEDRION OF THE BOIOTIAN CONFEDERACY

439

failed to do so. Plutarch (Phil. 14.2), whose lost Life of Epameinondas testifies

to his interest in and knowledge of his hero’s career, specifically states that Epameinondas returned from Asia and the islands without having achieved anything. Plutarch even makes the excuse that the Theban intentionally failed

because he agreed with Plato that the life of sailors would corrupt steadfast hoplites. It is both illustrative and significant that those who defend the accuracy of Diodorus’ testimony make little or no attempt to refute Isokrates and Plutarch. Nonetheless, these better sources prove that Diodorus cannot be right

in saying

that

Epameinondas

made

Rhodos,

Chios,

and

Byzantion

Thebes’ own in any real, official sense. A final argument indicates that Diodorus himself did not believe that Epameinondas had achieved anything permanent. At 15.79.2 he opines that had the Theban lived longer he would have secured the hegemony of the land and the rule of the sea. According to

Diodorus, then, Epameinondas had done neither. The historian has clearly muddled the entire episode. There is, however, substantial and unappreciated evidence to indicate that

Diodorus’ testimony is not completely worthless and that he genuinely misunderstood Ephoros, his principal source. Very revealing in this respect is the new inscription from Knidos that awards Epameinondas with proxemia, which proves that the Theban and his fleet received at least a friendly official welcome there. Other evidence proves that he was also warmly welcomed in other ports. Justin (16.4.3) mentions that Epameinondas sailed as far abroad as Herakleia Pontike, which means that his voyage took him from Rhodos in the southern Aegean to the Euxine Sea in the northeast. This expedition was a major event in which Epameinondas was well received by at least five major states. It was a noteworthy achievement in itself, one that brought the Theban considerable fame. It is small wonder that Diodorus probably misunderstood its meaning and exaggerated its significance in political and strategical terms. Epameinondas’ exploit is similar to the later voyage of the American Great White Fleet around the world, which won loud applause but gained not one

concrete diplomatic dividend.?’ Yet his popularity did not translate into official agreements by which states became formally allied with the Boiotians and then lent them material aid.“ Epameinondas received proxenia but the Boiotians did not win symmachia. If Diodorus thought that this voyage resulted in an actual shift in the balance of naval power in the Aegean, then he is simply wrong, as are those who believe his testimony. The vexed problem of the Social War demands only short consideration here. Those Rhodos,

who

conclude

that Byzantion, either alone or with Chios and

joined the Boiotian Confederacy in 364 BC

also claim that these

states thereby repudiated their formal ties with the Athenian Confederacy.”

440

JOHN BUCKLER

Yet they are then at a loss to explain the actual outbreak of the war of 357-355 BC. If these states had seceded from the Athenians in 364 BC, these scholars must explain, but have not, why the Athenians waited seven years to wage war

against them. Diodorus is again the place to start looking for answers, and this time he provides a relatively clear explanation of events. He states (16.7.3) that Athens in 358/7 BC suffered the revolt of Chios, Rhodos, and Byzantion, and thereby

became

involved

in the

Social

War.

At

16.21.1

(356/5

BC)

he

continues by saying that these states, together with Kos, pursued the war against Athens.” The point that Athens at that time entered into a formal state of war is supported by Dionysios

(Lys.

12). His testimony is surely correct,

having been drawn from an Atthidographer who was uniquely placed to provide accurate chronological testimony.’' Diodorus’ narrative also receives excellent contemporary support from Demosthenes (15.3, 15), who states that the Chians,

Byzantines,

and

Rhodians

accused

the Athenians

of plotting

against them. For that reason they went to war against Athens. He adds that

the Karian Mausolos, not the Theban Epameinondas, instigated the revolt.” Three things at least are immediately apparent from this contemporary source: (1) Epameinondas and the Boiotians had nothing to do with the outbreak of the Social War; (2) until 357 BC the Athenians considered themselves at peace with these three states. This is important for it takes no expert in international affairs to realize that if one state declares war on another, the previous relations between

them

were

what

one

normally

calls peace.

Lastly,

(3)

the allies

themselves began the war by rebelling against the Athenians. Tensions existed between Athens and Byzantion before

357 BC, but the Athenians

did not

consider these differences to amount to acts of war.” The revolt of the allies in 358/7 BC means that until then they considered themselves loyal members

of the Athenian Confederacy and formally at peace with it. If, as some modern historians suppose, they had already seceded from the Confederacy, they had no reason to rebel at this point. They could have continued to pursue their affairs undisturbed. Had they not drawn attention to themselves in 357 BC, the Athenians might not even have noticed that they had seceded seven years

earlier. There is not one piece of evidence in all this to suggest that Byzantion and the others acted in 357 BC as allies of the Boiotian Confederacy or that the Boiotians had anything to do with these later events. The Social War is in fact irrelevant to the situation obtaining in JG VII 2418, and therefore ought

to be dismissed from all consideration. With Epameinondas’ cussion,

attention

can

voyage and the Social War revert

to the

inscription

removed

itself. The

from the disAlyzeians

and

Anaktorians, Boiotian allies for over fifteen years, sent presbeis to deliver their contributions. In 362 BC the Arkadians, Boiotian allies for eight years by then,

THE PHANTOM SYNEDRION OF THE BOIOTIAN CONFEDERACY

441

sent presbeis to the bosotarchos Epameinondas (Xen. Hell. 7.4.39). Yet the inscription records that the Byzantines had sent syredroi. The distinction between the two terms demands explanation. Until someone can satisfactorily

explain why one state known to be an ally should send presbeis but another alleged to be one should send synedroi, there is no obvious reason why, if in fact allied, the Byzantines should fit into a separate, distinct, and hitherto unknown category of allies. Instead, the word synedros indicates that the Byzantines were not Boiotian allies. The basic meaning of synedros may provide the solution to

the mystery. Herodotos (3.34.3) speaks of certain Persian synedroi and Kroisos sitting informally together with Kambyses discussing the reasons for his greatness. These worthies were hardly representatives of any federal body, but were instead a group of friends giving their private opinions. Thucydides (4.22.1) relates that Spartan envoys (presbeis: 4.16.3) asked that the Athenians send synedrot to negotiate with them about the crisis at Pylos. These commissioners

were

to settle

the

details

of a mutually

acceptable

settlement

of

differences. Similarly, in the Melian affair (Thuc. 5.84.3-86.1) the Athenian strategoi sent presbeis with proposals to the Melians and were met by Melian synedroi whose duty was to deliberate independently of the demos but to act as representatives of it. Timaios (FGrHist 566) fr. 22 also relates that the Kamarinians sent embassies to their allies requesting that they send trustworthy men to discuss terms of peace with the Geleans, which deputies duly met in assembly. The manuscripts of Demosthenes

(18.157)

contain a letter from

Philip to the councillors of the allied Peloponnesians concerning Amphissan depredations of Delphic sacred land. The obvious problem with this piece of evidence is that the letter is a forgery, and there was no formal synedrion of Philip’s Peloponnesian allies. Yet the forger and his audience could accept the concept of a select group of allied commissioners. Furthermore, with the probable

exception of the passage from

Demosthenes,

these examples

are

drawn solely from the fifth and fourth centuries BC. Xenophon, interestingly enough, does not use the word synedros and thus offers no help. Fourth-century epigraphy supports this interpretation. The closest analogy to IG VII 2418 comes from 10 I? 467. In 306/5 the Athenians honored Timosthenes of Karystos, who had served as a commissioner to them during the Lamian War (lines 3-12). Timosthenes was the Karystian proxenos sent to

the Athenians and their allies with the clear message that he was serving both the kotnon of the Greeks and his own city. Staatsverträge III 476.47, 51, an alliance between the Athenians and the Spartans, though early third century, refers to select commissioners distinct from ambassadors. In a Milesian treaty with the Sardinians dating perhaps before 344 (Syl.? 273.2), Dittenberger interprets the synedroi of the Milesians as an elected council (or selected

442

JOHN BUCKLER

commissioners: LSJ’, s.v. σύνεδρος), not a boule.” This meaning of selected commissioners is the most likely one for the Byzantine representatives.” As in the

other

examples

cited,

they

were

commissioners

whose

duty

was

to

represent the interests of their state in a novel situation. Not themselves at war with

the

Phokian

temple-robbers,

the

Byzantines

nonetheless

wanted

financially to support Boiotian efforts to liberate Apollo’s sanctuary and to have a public accounting of their piety and generosity.” Efforts against the sacri-

legious gave the Byzantines the added satisfaction of opposing the Athenians, who

had

sided

with

the

Phokians,

without,

however,

giving

them

any

reasonable justification for complaint. They could not send money direct to the Pythia,

but

they

could

to the Boiotians,

who

were

also members

of the

synedrion of the Amphiktyonic Council.” The duties of their commissioners included delivery of the contributions and a receipt for them, in this case the one actually inscribed. As financial supporters, they surely consulted with the

Boiotians on the situation at Delphi, the progress of the war, and future Boiotian strategy. Included in these discussions were matters such as the possibility and amounts of future contributions and some discussion of how the money would be spent. Not being Boiotian allies, they labored under no treaty obligations and thus were free from formal commitments to that alliance. To handle matters relating to the Sacred War commissioners were ideal, and they best explain the presence of Byzantine synedrot, not presbeis, in IG VII 2418. No

other explanation so readily commends itself. Thus, the evidence from Xenophon and Boiotian epigraphy cannot prove the existence of a synedrion of the Boiotian Confederacy and its allies. One final historical proof should seal the matter. In 367-366 BC the Boiotians and their

allies sent delegates to King Artaxerxes to discuss a Common Peace (Xen. Hell. 7.1.33; Plut. Pel. 30; Artax. 22.8). This is the only recorded time when they took concerted diplomatic action in their dealings with a third party. The Boiotians sent Pelopidas and Hismenias the Younger as their ambassadors, and

the Arkadians, Eleians, and Argives sent their own legates.” The Boiotians did not send their own envoys and a representative from the putative synedrion. In

that respect their conduct is strikingly different from that of the Athenian and allied embassy to Philip before the Peace of Philokrates. The Athenians then sent their own ten ambassadors and Aglaokreon of Tenedos, who alone represented the synod of the Athenian Confederacy.” The reason for the difference

between

the Boiotian

and

the later Athenian

embassy

is that the

Boiotians had no synod to be represented, only individual allies who spoke for themselves. A case can even be made that the Boiotians actually wanted no synedrion, that they made a reasoned decision not to create one on the Athenian model.

THE PHANTOM

SYNEDRION OF THE BOIOTIAN CONFEDERACY

443

As members of the Athenian Confederacy, they had witnessed at first hand the inconvenience

of a formal

synod:

powerful

members

whose

policies were

sometimes at odds with those of the Aegernon; members who refused to fund or co-operate with confederate operations - indeed, the Athenian Confederacy faced constant financial difficulties throughout its existence; and members who balked at Athenian leadership of the Confederacy. In some cases, the Thebans

themselves had been guilty of these nuisances, so they knew the pitfalls from

personal experience.*' Rather than establish regular meetings of a synod drawn from various places throughout Greece, all of them located on -- or in the case of Euboia, near - the mainland where communications were inconvenient and

expensive, the Boiotians felt that a direct military hegemony was the simpler and more effective form of administration. All that can reasonably be said is that for reasons of their own the Boiotians did not create a synednon of their

allies .‘?

BIBLIOGRAPHY Badian, E. 1995. “The Ghost of Empire,” in W. Eder (ed.), Die athenische Demokrane im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. (Stuttgart) 79-106. Bakhuizen, S.C. 1994. “Thebes and Boeotia in the Fourth Century B.C.,” Phoenix 48: 307330. Beck, H. 1997. Polis und Kotnon. Untersuchungen zur Geschichte und Struktur der griechischen Bundessiaaten im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr., Histona Einzelschriften 114 (Stuttgart). Bengtson, H. 1975. Die Staatsverträge des Altertums II. 2nd ed. (Munich). Berve, H. 1967. Die Tyranmie bei den Griechen. 1 (Munich). Bosworth, A.B. 1988. Conquest and Empire. (Cambridge). Briscoe, J. 1973, Commentary on Livy Books XXXI-XX XII (Oxford). Buck, R.J. 1994. Botona and the Boiorian League, 423-371 B.C. (Alberta). Buckler, J. 1977. “Plutarch and the Fate of Antalkidas,” GRBS

18: 139-145.

Buckler, J. 1978. “Plutarch on the Trials of Pelopidas and Epameinondas (369 B.C.),” CP 73: 36-42.

Buckler, J. 1979. “The Re-establishment of the Boiotarchai (378 B.C.),” AJAH 4: 50-64. Buckler, J. 1980. The Theban Hegemony, 371-362 BC (Cambridge, Mass.). Buckler,}. 1982. “Xenophon’s Speeches and the Theban Hegemony,” Athenaeum 60: 180204. Buckler, J. 1985. “Boiotian Aulis and Greek Naval Bases,” in Dept. of History, U.S. Naval Academy (ed.). New Aspects of Naval History (Baltimore) 13-25. Buckler, J. 1989. Philip H and the Sacred War (Leiden). Buckler, J. 1998. “Epameinondas and the New Inscription from Knidos,” Mnemosyne 51: 192-205.

444

JOHN BUCKLER

Buckler, J. 2000. “A Survey of Theban and Athenian Relations between 403 and 371 BC”, in P.A. Bernardini (ed.), Presenza e Funzione della città di Tebe nella cultura greca (Milan) 339-349, Bussmann, J.B. 1912. Die bôonsche Verfassung (Fulda). Cargill, J. 1981. The Second Athenian League: Empire or Free Alliance? (Berkeley and Los Angeles). Cartledge, P. 1987. Agesilaos and the Crisis of Sparta (London and Baltimore). Cawkwell, G.L. 1972. “Epaminondas and Thebes,” CQ 66: 254-278. Dreher, M. 1990. “Ein athenischer Synhedrion im Zweiten Athenischen Seebund. Κλοπή in Dem. 24,127,” in G. Nenci & G. Thür (eds.) Symposion 1988 (Cologne and Vienna) 149-172,

Georgiadou, A. 1997. Plutarch’s Pelopidas (Stuttgart). Grey, V. 1989. The Character of Xenophon’s Hellenica (London). Griffen, A. 1982. Sikyon (Oxford). Hamilton, J.R. 1969. Plutarch, Alexander (Oxford). Hart, R.A.

1965.

The Great White Fleet (Boston).

Heisserer, A.J. 1980. Alexander the Great and the Greeks. The Epigraphic Evidence (Norman). Heskel, J. 1997. The North Aegean Wars, 371-360 B.C. (Stuttgart). Hornblower, 5. 1982. Mausolus (Oxford).

Hornblower, 5. 1983. The Greek World, 479-323 B.C. (London and New York). Hude, C. 1969. Kenophontis Historia Graeca (Stuttgart). Jacoby, F. 1949. Arhis (Oxford).

Jehne, M. 1994. Koine Eirene. Untersuchungen zu den Befriedungs- und Stabilisierungsbemühungen in der griechischen Poliswelt des 4. Jahrhunderts, Hermes Einzelschriften 63 (Sruttgart). Kelly, D.H. 1980. “Philip II and the Boeotian Alliance,” Annchthon 14: 69-73. Lewis, D.M. 1990. “The Synedrion of the Boeotian Alliance,” Teiresias Suppl. 3: 71-73. Meloni, P. 1951. “La tirannide di Euphrone I,” RFIC 79: 14-24. Orsi, D.P. 1987. “La boule dei Tebani,” OS 13: 125-144. Pearson, L. 1942. The Local Historians of Attica (Philadephia). Peake, J. 1997. “Note on the Dating of τῆς Social War,” GaR 44: 161-164. Preuss, E. 1879. “Quaestiones Boeoticae,” Nicholaigymnasiums in Leipzig: 1-40. Rhodes, P.J. 1997. The Decrees of ıhe Greek States, with the late David M. Lewis (Oxford).

Roesch, P. 1982. Erudes beoriennes (Paris). Roux, G. 1979. L’Amphicnonte, Delphes et le temple d’Apollon au ΠῚ siècle. (Lyons). Roy, J. 1994. “Thebesin the 360s B.C.,” CAH VI’ (Cambridge) 187-208. Ruge, W. 1899. “Chrysopolis,” RE 3: 2518. Ruzicka, 5. 1998. “Epaminondas and the Genesis of the Social War,” CP 93: 60-69.

Schneider, R. 1860. Quaestiones Xenophonteae (Bonn). Stylianou, P.J. 1998. A Historical Commentary on Diodorus Sıculus Book 15 (Oxford). Swoboda, H. & Busolt, G. 1926. Griechische Staatskunde II (Munich). Worle, M. 1988. “Inschriften von Herakleia am Latmos I: Antiochos II, Zeuxis und Herakleia,” Chiron 18: 421-476.

THE PHANTOM

SYNEDRION

OF THE BOIOTIAN CONFEDERACY

445

NOTES His argument is based almost solely on Swoboda (1926) 1425-1426. Those agreed: Cargill (1981) (1994) 308 n. 4.

113 π. 46, 169; Hornblower

(1983)

168, 232; and Bakhuizen

Those opposed: Kelly (1980) 69-73; Cartledge (1987) 310; Roy (1994) 202 n. 17; Jehne (1994) 22 n. 74; and Beck (1997) 216 π. 15. Meloni (1951) 14-24; Berve (1967) 1.305-306; and Griffen (1982) 73-75. Bengtson (1975) 273; Buckler (1980) 73-78; Kelly (1980) 70-71; and Georgiadou (1997) 181182. E.g. Bengtson {{1975] 193, especially IG I’ 83.24-25; 290, especially /G II? 112.35-36). Xen. Hell. 6.5.23; Diod. 15.57.4, 62.5; Bengtson (1975) 193, 290; Buckler (1980) 100-101, 183, 193.

10. 11.

Analogous is the situation of the Theban harmost at Tegea, whose decisions were valid only with the approval of the Boiotian government: Xen. Hell. 7.4.36-40. Sy? 283 and Heisserer (1980) 79-95. 404 BC: Lys. fr. 78.2; Plut. Lys.27.5-8; 382 BC: Plut. Pel. 6.5. Hell.

Oxy.

Βοιωτῶν ἐν determined of Rhodian summoned 12. 13.

19.4:

td μὲν οὖν ἔθνος

ὅλον οὕτως ἐπολιτεύετο, καὶ τὰ συνέδρια

teal) τὰ κοινὰ τῶν

τῇ Καδμείᾳ συνεκάθιζεν. Whether synedna here is a technical term cannot be by this one occurrence. Elsewhere the Oxyrhynchos historian applies it to a session archontes (18.2), which may have been ἃ regular assembly, as opposed to the hastily ekklesia of the Rhodian demos.

Buckler (1979) 50-64, with full references and bibliography. IG VD 21.1-2 (Orchomenos); see also Polyb. 20.6.1; 22.4.17; and JG VII 2708.2-3 (Akraiphia)

also provide evidence for a local syrtedrion and demos elsewhere in Boiotia, on which see Preuss (1879) 9-11, and in general Bussmann

14,

Buckler (1978)

36-42.

(1912)

Although Jehne

14-18.

(1994)

22 n. 74 and Kelly (1980)

71

erroncously

conclude that the trial took place before a boule of the Boiotian Confederacy, Beck (1997) 216 n. 15 correctly points out that a Theban bou heard the case.

15. 16.

Buckler (1982) 191, Grey (1989) 134-136. Pace Orsi (1987) 125-144. In arguing against her, Bakhuizen (1994) 308 n. 4 equates the alleged federal Boiotian boule with the fourth-century snedrion in question. Buck (1994) 106 accepts the existence of a federal boule chosen by lot, for which, however, there is no evidence.

17.

18.

Jehne (1994) 22 n. 74 rejects the reality of this dogma, which he compares to those cited in n. 10 above. See n. 7 above. This dogma would no more constitute proof of a synedrion than do the decrees of

the Athenians and the Thasians and Klazomenians discussed on p. 434 above. 19.

Plur. Alex.

11.11; Arr. Anab.

1.8.8; Justin

11.3.8; see also Hamilton

(1969)

30-31; Bosworth

(1988) 195-196. For that matter, the existence of a general assembly and a federal synednion of the Hellenistic Boiouan Confederacy is likewise uncertain: Livy 33.1.7-2.6; Briscoe (1973) 249-

20. 21. 22.

250 and Roesch (1982) 275-278, 369-370. Buckler (1989) passim. Jehne (1994) 22 n. 74 rejects as mere speculation the existence of an allied synedrion on the basis of this isolated piece of evidence. IG I? 43.106; Xen. Hell. 6.5.23; see Cargill (1981) 68-69, 106-108; Beck (1997) 31-43.

Xen. Hell. 5.1.7; IG I? 43.79; Cargill (1981) 33 n. 15.

23.

Although Ruzicka (1998) 61 n. 8 and Stylianou (1998) 496 again raise the notion that not all 100

24.

Various renderings include Cawkwell (1972) 270: he “made the cities friendly to the Thebans”,

Boiotian triremes were built, this conjecture has already been addressed: Buckler (1985)

14.

and 271: he made them “attached” to the Thebans. Hornblower (1983) 232: “he made them tas, his own”; Ruzicka (1998) 61: he “made the cities ‘Thebes’ own’”; Buckler (1998) 194: “he procured the independent cities for the Thebans”. Lastly, Stylianou (1998) 496, who opines that

the “precise meaning of ἰδίας here escapes us”.

446

JOHN BUCKLER

25.

Although Lewis (1990) 73 n. 14 does not understand why Buckler rejects the authenticity of a

26.

Kelly (1980) 81. Buckler (1998) 192-205.

Byzantine alliance with the Boiotians, the references are in Buckler (1980)

27. 28.

310 n. 42. See also

Hart (1965) passim. See also Heskel (1997) 136. Yet Ruzicka (1998) 62-64 and Stylianou (1998) 412-413, 497 conclude that Byzantion did rebel from Athens and allied itself with the Boiotians without suggesting how the city firted into the putative allied synedrion.

29,

So Badian

30.

exerted such powerful commercial pressure on Athens in 362, the Athenians did not immediately respond. They could not have survived complete closure of the Hellespontine grain route for five years, the dire effects of which Lysandros proved in 404 and Antalkidas in 387. See Peake (1997) 161-164.

31.

For Dionysios’ reliance on Attidographers, see Jacoby (1949) 401-415 and Pearson (1942) 88-89,

32.

(1995)

95 and

Ruzicka

(1998)

66-68, who

also fails to explain why, if Byzantion

126-134, See also Isoc. 8.16-17; 15.63-64; Dion. Hal. Isoc. 15-16; Hornblower (1982) 205-211, who nonetheless considers Byzantion already to be a Boiotian ally before the outbreak of the Social War. Stylianou (1998) 497 suggests that Ephoros (FGrHist 70) fr. 83 (“Chrysopolis of the Kalchedonians being handed over to the allies”) refers to this city being given to the Byzantines. Yet by the terms of the King’s Peace of 386 Chrysopolis and Kalchedon belonged to the Persians, and the King was unlikely to give the city even to one of his Greek allies, much less to the Byzantines with whom he was not allied. Ruge (1899) 2518 does not comment.

33.

Roy (1994) 202 ἢ. 17 succinctly and accurately describes this situation as “unfriendly” but nothing more.

34. 35.

Dreher (1990) 151-153. See also Worrle (1988) 424-448 and Rhodes (1997) 374.

36.

In this instance the postulation of synedrion as a technical term in the same sense as it is used of members of the Athenian Confederacy is to assume what should be proven. Indeed, this process amounts only to circular argument. The Byzantine response was not totally novel. For a list of pious contributions to Delphi made

37.

before the Phokian seizure of the sanctuary, see Tod, GH

140, and for contributions to a Spartan

war-fund dating to the Peloponnesian War, sce Meiggs-Lewis, GH 67. The Byzantines simply combined the two. Their desire to ensure the proper use of their contributions is reminiscent of the Thessalian demand that Philip of Macedon make the same proper use of their taxes to prosecute the Sacred War; see Buckler (1989) 104-106. 38.

E.g. Theopompos 7-8.

(FGrHis: 115) frr. 63, 169; Roux (1979)

1-3, 27, 50, 53; and Buckler (1989)

39.

Buckler (1977) 139-145.

40. 41.

Aeschin. 2.20, 97, 126; Buckler (1989) 121, 132, 134. Buckler (2000) 339-349.

42.

I owe a great debt of gratitude, here gladly paid, to Drs. Hans Beck and Thomas Heine Nielsen for their kind help in improving this piece, to the anonymous reader for his comments, and to Caroline H. Buckler.

Back to Kleisthenic Chronology* E. BADIAN

Ever since the discovery of the Athenaion politeia' furnished us, in chapters 2122, with

a series of more

or less precise

dates bearing on the reforms

of

Kleisthenes, the actual time-table of the reforms, far from clarified by this

evidence, has been a matter of debate among scholars trying to make historical sense of A’s account. Preferences have alternated between what I shall call the “long” and the “short” interpretation: the theory that the reforms propounded by Kleisthenes in 508/7 (a clear date furnished by A) were completed only with

the oath of the Boule and the election of the strategot, the latter certainly in 501/500 (for details see the discussion below), and that this was because the actual organisation of the People in their demo: and phylai (which I shall henceforth call mbes) took several years to complete and was at once followed

by the institution of the Boule and of the ten generals — between this theory and the theory that the organisation was completed within a year or less and that

the oath of the Boule and the election of the strategot at a much later time must be accounted for in other ways, not always clearly set out. A date not known to A must come into the reckoning: the archonship of one Alkmaion, under

which, according to the sophist Pollux in the second century AD 8.110),

“the

tribes became

ten”.

That

date is not found

(Onom.

in our surviving

historical tradition. Unfortunately there are such large gaps in our archon lists, precisely in the relevant period (the last decade of the sixth century), that we

technically have a choice among several possibilities where we might insert Alkmaion and mark the completion of the civic organisation. For the long theory, which at one time held the field, we may refer to C.W.J. Eliot (1962), whose

view

was

essentially

accepted

by

P.J.

Rhodes

in his

authoritative

Commentary on the Anstotelian Athenaion Politeia (1981), there repeating the

view first advanced in his The Atheman Boule (Rhodes [1972]

191-193). In

both authors the long theory goes with an emendation in A’s text, which will

have to be discussed. But the emendation is not essentially connected with this view: let me at once say that I myself am going to argue in favour of the long theory, but against the emendation. By the time when Rhodes’ Commentary appeared, he was already fighting a losing battle. The short theory was in process of becoming orthodox. Rhodes unfortunately did not list, or try to refute, the work of the eminent epigraphist

448

E. BADIAN

Wesley E. Thompson ([1964] and [1971]), the former only marginally relevant to this question (though a very important contribution to Kleisthenic studies), the latter, however, arguing, chiefly against Eliot, that the main task of registration could be performed quite quickly, “by announcing that each man was to register in his home village”; where a deme consisted of several villages, men could be told where to go for registration (Thompson [1971] 74-75). The

principal aim of his article was to show, against Eliot and earlier scholars, that Kleisthenes did not need to compile a map of Attika broken down into demes: no precise deme boundaries were ever marked out, and Kleisthenes was concerned with men and not with land (a view, as he acknowledged, earlier hinted at by D.M.

Lewis).

In this aim, let me

at once say, he was totally

successful. I do not think anyone can again return to needing a map showing deme boundaries. Thompson’s short theory was enthusiastically developed by Antony Andrewes (1977). He put the and the first year of the reformed constitution in the

the idea of Kleisthenes’ endorsed and further archonship of Alkmaion year after Isagoras’, i.e.

507/6. He did briefly wonder how, with Isagoras as archon, and still present in

Athens

(for he put

the passage

of the

reform

bill before

the

appeal

to

Kleomenes), Kleisthenes’ proposals could have reached the Assembly and been

voted on. (This is of course essential to a theory that posits the completion of the registration in the new demes, miryes and tribes in the year of Isagoras, so that the new constitution can be working in the following year.) But he shakes off that brief doubt, as also the recognition of the fact that the organisation of the trittyes was undeniably a complicated task, and accepts what he claims (Andrewes names

[1977]

246-247)

was

only one), that “Herodotos

the view of most historians

(although he

was right to put the completion

of the

reform (sic) before Isagoras’ appeal to Cleomenes”. (Anyone checking the text will see that Herodotos says nothing of the sort; but we have to return to him later.) In

a memorable phrase, Andrewes states that “a few men, with enough

local knowledge between them (sic), could draw up the necessary list [of the

constitutional demes] in an evening” (Andrewes [1977] 244). The picture we are invited to construct for ourselves is rather charming: Kleisthenes, in an evening in a taverna, presiding over a small number of knowledgeable village elders and deciding, perhaps over wine mixed with water, after drawing up a complete register of all the villages in Atuka, which of them should be made constitutional demes and which should be attached to those thus favoured.

One may assume that no resident of (say) Melainai or Hyporeia was present on that cheerful occasion, to point out that they had no wish to be absorbed by a more powerful neighbour.

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449

Strabo (9.1.16) knew of 170 or perhaps 174 demoi in Attika as the accepted number. We, of course, know only of around 140 actual constitutional demes. As John Traill pointed

out (Traill

[1975]

97), what

Strabo

had

seen was

presumably a list of villages, not a list of constitutional demes. We may wonder whether any group of knowledgeable men could be relied upon to compile, “between them”, a faultless register of those

170 (or was it 174? -- Strabo’s

sources were not unanimous on this) villages in the time that Andrewes allotted to them. I myself do not see how he would have set about collecting the right men (a smal] number, as we have seen) for the job in the first place, and how he could be sure, without checking, that no hamlet had been omitted either

through ignorance or (as likely) through malice. But not only that: Andrewes wants them to have decided, during that “first stage”, which of the villages they had collected were to be constitutional demes and which were to be attached to those - all in that one evening. Andrewes never considered how that basic decision could be arrived at, and justified. And the same charge must be laid against Thompson, who, as we have seen, proposed that men be sent home to

register and that some, at the same time, be told that they were not to register in their home village after all, but in a more important, or better connected, neighbouring one. Traill (1975)

75 lists numbers

of citizens as a “first re-

quisite” for the scholar trying to trace constitutional demes. Jt must equally have been a first requisite when the demes were first set up. Whatever allowance we make for such factors as personal interest and influence, on the part

of Kleisthenes and others, both aristocrats and village elders — and it cannot be denied that such factors will have gone into the final decision, just as they would today, and indeed do when electoral boundaries are drawn — the process had to be put across to the Athenian Assembly as honest and rational. Were it perceived as patently arbitrary, Kleisthenes would at once have lost the broad base of support and consensus on which he depended. The Athenians, who had been promised a change from a state of affairs where their interests had allegedly not been taken into account, would not lightly acquiesce in seeing the

basic decision on the constitution that was to liberate them arrived at in that same spirit. To sum up: by notionally oversimplifying the basic process, Andrewes and Thompson put the cart before the horse. The decision on precisely which demes were to count as constitutional was a major and inevitably controversial

one. It could only be taken, as any politician would know, when the figures were known and could be put before the Assembly. Andrewes’ suggestion that there might have been an “enabling act” setting up a commission with full powers to make this decision, which might (or perhaps would not even need to) be ratified by the Assembly later, seems unrealistic. The Athenians of ca.

450

Ε. BADIAN

500 would have wondered how that differed in principle from the aristocratic régime that they were told they had now shed - or even, possibly, from the decision to assign a bodyguard to Peisistratos. Andrewes was well aware of the

difference between the compilation of the basic list and the process of whittling it down to the list of political demes, but he greatly oversimplifies both of these processes and in the working out of his idea fails to draw a clear distinction between them. We have no idea whether a set number was aimed at, or a minimum size was posited (as is perhaps more likely, although the two could be reconciled). And there is a further fact that must be borne in mind, but appears to be “the least mentioned”:

we

have

no

idea

whether,

and

to what

extent,

Kleisthenes’

original arrangements coincided with the one that scholars like Traill have eruditely worked out. As Traill states, there is no evidence on the details of the

organisation for a century: the first, quite fragmentary, epigraphic list is dated precisely to 408/7

(Traill [1975]

xv). And most of the texts come from the

fourth century, after the settlement at the end of the Peloponnesian War. As Traill’s list (Traill [1975] xvii) shows, over the whole period covered even by

this evidence, there are only ten complete or nearly complete lists (including both prytany and Boule lists) covering one or more tribes. He lists none at all

for three out of the ten tribes and only one for three more. Of the remaining four, he had two lists for two tribes and more than two for two more. More evidence may have come

to light since

picture has drastically changed.

1975, but I am

not aware that the

It is a bleak picture, and we must give full

credit to the care and diligence of those who have managed to base valid interpretations on such evidence.” But whatever the case for the fourth century, it is only Micawberish optimism about the past that will assert that this picture necessarily mirrors what Kleisthenes did before that totally blank century and try to draw conclusions about his motives from that assertion. Fortunately, we are not concerned with that here.’ We are left, in practice, with our two literary sources: Herodotos 5.66-67

and 69 and Ath. Pol. Unfortunately, Herodotos is in part disqualified by his idée fixe: that Kleisthenes’ sole aim was to imitate his Sikyonian grandfather by

increasing the number of demes and tribes, out of contempt for the Ionians that corresponded to the other’s contempt for the Dorians. He knows practically nothing about the reforms. Even though he lived in post-Kleisthenic

Athens, he seems to be ignorant of the existence of the mitzyes and uninterested in the composition of the Boule. His actual discussion of Kleisthenes (locc. cite.) Mentions neither those items nor the creation of the strategia. If Andrewes chooses to believe him, that the whole reform was completed before Kleomenes was summoned, this is pure wishful thinking. As we have seen, the fact that

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451

Isagoras, as archon, was powerless to stop the vote on the new demes

and

tribes does not bother Herodotos, any more than it bothered Andrewes (except for a brief mention). The only detailed description of the reforms is provided by Ath. Pol., and A, for whatever reason (but surely not by accident), puts the

actual passage of the redistribution after the expulsion of Kleomenes, even though

he too seems

to believe

that it was

all done

in the archonship

of

Isagoras.* I hope we have seen that the idea that the basic list of constitutional demes could

be

created

by a few

men

getting

together

for an evening

is quite

unrealistic. That list can only have been arrived at after the results of a census, however rough and imperfect (as even more modern censuses have been), had

been put before the Assembly, at the least as evidence for the politicians’ good faith. In laying the foundation for his whole scheme, Kleisthenes could not afford to surrender the appearance of having empowered the People (to use modern terminology). Thompson’s idea, that all he had to do was to announce

that each man was to register in the deme in which he lived and (concurrently!) that those politically assigned to neighbouring demes could be told where to

go points up the oversimplification and the neglect of the political factors involved.’ The tyrants might have operated like this, but not the liberator. It is a pity

that

Andrewes

uncritically

adopted

this

view,

which

was

then

popularised by Ostwald in a rather unhelpful treatment in the new Cambridge

Ancient History.‘ In fact, even technically there are difficulties in this proposed scheme. It is

not as simple and obvious as its propounder and supporters apparently thought it. Not

all villages will have

sent representatives to the meeting where

the

announcement is supposed to have been made, any more than they later did, in the days of the fully developed democracy. To come to Athens from the area (say) of the Boiotian border meant the loss of several days’ labour. Let us say

that a motion of the Assembly is notionally substituted for the dictatorial announcement: it would still mean that messengers would have to be sent out to carry the vote to the villages — probably all villages, since there was no way

of telling which of them had had members at the meeting, and if they had, whether

those members

would

correctly understand

and

report what was

required. Then there was the question of who was to receive the names and make up the list. Andrewes again proposes arbitrary action: demarchs would be provisionally appointed as registrars. The implication, for one thing, again seems to be that it was a matter of registration in the (already designated) constitutional

demes.

Kleisthenes would

have found

it difficult to appoint

demarchs (who, above all, had to be fully literate) for all the 170+ villages, and again, it was politically out of the question.

That problem might have been

452

Ε. BADIAN

overcome by a vote that each village was to elect ἃ demarch to receive registrations, or perhaps a komarch. They would know that he had to be literate, and it would give them a first taste of the promised self-rule. If in any village

no one sufficiently literate could be found, they would then have to resort to a neighbour; and this might help in persuading small villages to accept ultimate subordination. However, it seems odd that, in all the numerous discussions of the details of Kleisthenes’ time-table, such details have never been considered,

any more than the political possibilities limiting arbitrary actions. Scholars are accustomed to move on a higher level. It must also be noted that this act of registration included Kleisthenes’ plan to increase the population base. In a well-known statement in his Politics (3.1275b) Aristotle reports that Kleisthenes enfranchised many non-Athenians, foreigners and “slaves”.’ That the “slaves” must be freedmen

(freed slaves)

should be obvious. Kleisthenes could not deprive numerous Athenians of an important part of their property without compensation. He did not intend to banish slavery from Attika, even for the moment. But the statement is echoed,

and the actual mechanism suggested, by A, who reports (21.4) that Kleisthenes “made those residing in each of the demes fellow-demesmen of each other” - a statement that has not aroused much interest among commentators:’ there is no discussion in either Rhodes or Chambers. Yet it must be taken together with Aristotle’s statement, and it shows that he simply asked that all free men living in the demes be put on the register as citizens, for this is what “fellowdemesmen” must mean. For the moment, there were to be no resident aliens

or freedmen left in Attika.'° That this decision, too, must have been made by the Assembly, and that it is not one on which agreement would be secured without prolonged discussion and against some resistance, would hardly need stressing, had it not been generally ignored in modern discussion, especially by propounders of the short theory. I hope I have made it clear that Kleisthenes’ reorganisation, even at what Andrewes

called

registration”

“the first stage”,

that he

imagined.

was

There

not were

simply major

a matter points

of the that

discussed, probably at more than one meeting of the Assembly,

had

“rapid to be

as well as

technical details that had to be resolved. Above all, we must start from the

principle that, if Kleisthenes’ programme was to mean anything, it had to mean that Athenians

could

no longer be ordered

about

for the convenience

of

aristocratic politicians. Admittedly, the Athenians of ca. 500 were probably not yet as loquacious and argumentative as their descendants. But the serious decisions that had to be taken in the moulding

of Classical Athens

would

certainly have taken much time and discussion, if Kleisthenes wanted to retain his ascendancy. Herodotos’ implication, that the redistribution into demes and

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453

tribes was completed before Kieomenes was summoned, is unacceptable on

any reasonable assessment.'' Even Andrewes admits that the next step, the distribution of demes into mityes and of trittyes into tribes, must have been a long process. To save his short theory he has recourse to one of the most extraordinary hypotheses ever

advanced in connection with Kleisthenes’ time-table: that the mityes will have been named and assigned in advance, before the demes had been distributed into them. If so, of course, the reform, at least as far as the redistribution of the citizens is concerned, could be said to have been complete before the most difficult stage had even started. If any such procedure had been adopted, it would have made the actual filling of the prepared mittyes a much more difficult task, indeed near impossible. Much more time would have been needed for de facto completion of the allocation, even though the reform can thus be claimed to be complete before the most difficult stage. And once more, I doubt if the

newly liberated Athenians would have accepted a manoeuvre that seemed designed to make it impossible to assess the fairness of the actual distribution. That hypothesis is best forgotten. Kleisthenes wanted (perhaps needed) to use the lot in combining his mitryes into tribes: it is simply presumptuous to reject A’s positive evidence (21.4) on this.'? This meant that the sritryes within each of the regions had to approach equality of size. Even

Thompson,

relying on the fourth-century evidence,

admits that by that criterion Kleisthenes did pretty well: Thompson found no

“large” city mitys and only one “small” coastal mirrys. But whatever the fourthcentury figures, it is important to keep our minds firmly fixed on the fact that we have no idea as to the size of the demes, trittyes and tribes that Kleisthenes assembled, a century before our first epigraphic evidence in that area hesitantly

begins to turn up. By the time we begin to see the system working, deme representation in the Boule had ossified beyond the possibility of fundamental

change.'? We have no idea when, or by what stages, this happened. Any argument from the figures we have to Kleisthenes’ own allocations involves a huge leap of faith: not only that there had been no major change between his day and (essentially) the fourth century, but in the assumption that the system of deme representation in the Boule was set up by Kleisthenes himself. There is nothing to support that assumption. It is clear, and known, that the system set up by Kleisthenes was further developed

during the fifth century. Un-

fortunately A soon loses interest in the details of constitutional reform.'* We may not draw any conclusions from his silence. As Rhodes strikingly formulated it in the particular case of the system of prytanies, which he sensibly

refuses to ascribe to Kleisthenes, we tend to ascribe any measure to Kleisthenes “merely because it accords with our idea of what he was trying to do” (Rhodes

454

E. BADIAN

[1972]

19). If he is anywhere near right in his assessment of the functions of

the Boule straight after Kleisthenes, deme representation is no more likely to

have been part of his ideas than the developed prytany system. There is a test case: had we not by mere chance heard of the law of the archonship of Telesinos, or perhaps the year before (Ath. Pol. 22.5),'” it would undoubtedly have been maintained by the majority of scholars that the system of prokrisis for the archonship goes back to Kleisthenes himself, who had every reason to try

to prevent a recurrence of an archonship like Isagoras’; it would have been said that “it is natural to believe that the system goes back to Cleisthenes” — indeed much

more “natural” than the system of deme

representation to which this

statement actually refers.'® If all we knew about the German Parliament was the present composition of the Bundestag, and all we knew about German history over roughly the past century was accounts of two major wars, the names of a few leading politicians, and a few items concerning

a democratic revolution

(which is comparable to what we know

and a vicious tyranny

about Athenian history in its con-

stitutional aspects between Kleisthenes and ca. 400), it would be most unwise to speculate about Bismarck’s motives in introducing universal male suffrage; and we would almost certainly be wildly wrong if we did. We must reconcile ourselves to the fact that we simply do not know on what principles Kleisthe-

nes allocated demes to trittyes and trittyes to tribes (within the general scheme of the three regions), except that we must surely assume that he had to make

the zrirtyes of each region about equal in size, if allotment was to work and if he wanted to maintain a reputation for honest dealing. Some decisions that have continued to puzzle scholars, and that have inspired “conspiracy theories” to explain them, would probably find an explanation within that powerful motive, if we but had more adequate information. Thus perhaps the famous case of the

Marathon Tetrapolis, in an area of Attika that continues to cause problems for scholars.'’ We can easily imagine what problems Kleisthenes, working with acrophonic numerals and possibly with not even the aid of an abacus, must have had in forming his mritryes with conspicuous fairness on the basis of the census data he had assembled.'®

To sum up: there are four separate stages to be considered before the tribes could be said to be in working order, i.e. before the archonship of Alkmaion. First, the registration of all men in their demes, including free non-Athenians who were now to become demotai; next, on the basis of this, a register of demoi

with the numbers of their free male inhabitants; this would justify the third stage, the decision on which demo: were to become demes in their new political function and which were to be attached to and absorbed by those thus chosen. As we have seen, each of these stages presented problems, technical and/or

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455

political, with the first and the third the most difficult and potentially controversial. In the newly liberated Athens, we can imagine a series of meetings of the Assembly, where complaints were heard, and no doubt sometimes acted on, for Kleisthenes could not afford to play the tyrant. It was only when all this was done and the political demes established and accepted, that Kleisthenes and his associates could get on to the final stage: the assembly of murtyes of

approximately equal size in each region, so that the constitution of the tribes could be left to the gods speaking through the lot. It baffles the imagination

how this task could be performed with the mathematical tools at Kleisthenes’ disposal. That it would take a long time should not need saying, were it not that some scholars have propounded a theory that imagines it could all be done in 508/7, interrupted by the unfortunate episode of Kleomenes or perhaps only

starting after he left, and at the most in part of the following year.” We must next consider what, as far as I know, has never been considered in discussions of Kleisthenic chronology:

the fact that this highly complicated

process was not going on in sheltered isolanon. Kleomenes was expected to return with a large army:

hence the appeal to Persia and the readiness

to

become, at least for the time being, subjects of the Great King (Hdt. 5.73). And indeed, Kleomenes did thus return by the following spring (506), and the

Athenians found themselves facing a war on three fronts (Hdt. 5.74). It was largely good luck (the unforeseeable disagreements that led to the disintegration of the most dangerous enemy, the Peloponnesian levy) that enabled them to ignore

that main

Chalkidians, whom

front

and

concentrate

on

fighting the

Boiotians

and

they defeated on the same day, we are told; after which

they settled 4000 klerouchs on land confiscated from Chalkis and, in due course, received number

a ransom

for the men

of Chalkidians) whom

(700 Boiotians

and an unspecified

they had captured alive (Hdt.

events, to say the least, must have been a distraction from

5.77). These the continuing

development of the stages realising the Kleisthenic reforms. And this was not

the end of it. The Thebans, advised by Delphi, turned to Aigina for help, and the

Aiginetans

began

their

“unheralded

war”

with

the sack

of Phaleron,

followed by attacks on other coastal demo:, which “greatly hurt the Athenians”

and no doubt kept them on constant military alert.” We can see why the allocation of men to demes, of demes to trittyes and of mirtyes to tribes might be a very long process. We cannot tell how long the process took, but on any reasonable estimate

it should be obvious that it was not completed in the year of Isagoras or even the next year, with military operations and the consequent settlement at Chalkis interrupting it, and that it might be further delayed by the Boiotian war and the “unheralded war” with Aigina that at once followed, and that would

456

E. BADIAN

require at least intermittent active attention and keep hoplite forces occupied protecting coastal settlements and watching Boiotia. However, we must now get on to the problem of the creation of the Boule and the election of srrategot. As is well known, A tells us (22.2) that “in the fifth year after this arrangement (μετὰ ταύτην τὴν κατάστασιν),2) in the archonship of Hermokreon, they established for the Boule, the Five Hundred, the oath that they still swear today”. This has caused a variety of problems and a great deal of discussion. First, what is the katastasıs alluded to? Some scholars, for various reasons,

have

suggested

that

it refers

to

the

full

implementation

of the

organisation (i.e., the archonship of Alkmaion).?? This offers the advantage that the date of Hermokreon

can then be established as not 504/3

(on this see

immediately below), but (e.g.) on the short theory, 503/2, as suggested by Chambers

(with a cautious query) in his edition of Ath. Pol. and explained in

his great German commentary (Chambers [1990]). Unfortunately, this does not seem to me acceptable, not only because it presupposes the short theory, which seems to me inconceivable, but because of the actual wording in A’s

text. For it implies that by “after that he has not mentioned and Kleisthenic organisation in the put it). The unprejudiced reader

this arrangement” he is referring to something clearly did not know: the completion of the archonship of Alkmaion (no matter when we will surely find it obvious and inescapable that

“this arrangement” refers to something the author has mentioned before; and the only relevant

event he Aas mentioned

is what

Kleisthenes

did

in the

archonship of Isagoras. I am afraid this means that A had a very short theory in his mind: that everything was in fact completed and began to function in 508/7. This would not be the only case of naiveté in the work, and of course

it does not mean that he had any actual source for this idea. But the meaning of his words in 22.2 is so clear that no other interpretation seems possible: we must take it that he meant to put the oath of the new Boude in 504/3. It was at once recognised that this conflicts with the archon Akestorides, listed for this year by Dionysios of Halikarnassos (Ant. Rom. 5.37.1). For the

sake of completeness, we must consider the possibility that Dionysios may be wrong, ¢specially since there is a discrepancy between his account and Livy’s in the events and consulships for the earliest years of the Roman

Republic.

However tempting this may be, it cannot be entertained. Dionysios clearly did not base his archons on any Roman

correlation, but at this point lists the

beginning of each Olympiad and correlates it with the Athenian archon of that year. That correlation, certainly taken from a table, must be correct. A, therefore, must simply be wrong.

His work is by no means devoid of

mistakes in the rest of the historical section, as all scholars admit. Why, then,

such reluctance to admit that he has made a mistake in this instance? I suppose

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457

the answer is twofold. First, it has often been thought that he used an archon list. However, as I have previously pointed out (Badian (1971]), he demonstrably does not. At the time I did not see the most striking proof: he does not know

the archon

Alkmaion,

under whom

the tribal organisation began

to

function, a name that the sophist Pollux records (Onom. 8.110), undoubtedly ultimately on the basis of an Atthidographer. This, in addition to his vagueness elsewhere, conclusively proves that he did not work from an archon list: I suggested that he may have worked

from

(unverified) notes made

from an

archon list. In any case, another reason for trying to save his count is that, once we recognise that he is simply mistaken, we have no way of correcting the error. I am afraid we must accept that fact. We simply do not know in what precise year the oath of the Boule was established. To bypass that uncomfortable uncertainty, it has been proposed to emend A’s 5th year to the 8th, on

the hypothesis that eta was confused with epsion.? The suggestion, although it has won support among some excellent scholars, who dislike floundering in uncertainty, is not in fact impressive. First, in our actual papyrus texts I did not find any use of numerals for numbers in the historical part (chapters

1-41).

Moreover, etacism (the modern Greek pronunciation of eta like sota) became

established during the Hellenistic period: it was certainly flourishing at the time

our London papyrus was written.” There is very little time for the supposed copyist’s confusion to have occurred. By putting the oath of the Boule, for most of those supporting the change equivalent to the first functioning of the Boule,

in the same year as the first election of generals it also fails to account for A’s ἔπειτα (22.2), which, in this context of dates and intervals, must surely be chronological.? No, emendation will not save A’s credit or remedy the uncertainty he has created.

Before we investigate various possibilities of conjecture, we must turn to the significance of the introduction of the oath which the bouleutai sull swore in A’s day. Now, in this instance A has been unjustly impugned.

Various scholars

claim that changes in the oath can be documented, so that it can only have

remained the same in spirit.”* In fact, I have not found any reference to any change in the oath, only to specific clauses that were at various times added. There is no reason to doubt that, as A wrote, the formula introduced in the archonship of Hermokreon was still used in his day, whatever additions had at

various times been made and had survived. But the important question 15: can we take the introduction of this oath to mark the first establishment of the Kleisthenic Boule? At first sight, this would seem obvious, especially since we

next hear, after an unspecified interval, of the first election of the generals. Each seems to mark a stage (the generals the final stage) in the actual establishment of Kleisthenes’ scheme, whether or not he remained alive to see

458

Ε. BADIAN

it through. But various ways around this prima facie meaning can be found, not all of them capable of disproof. All agree, I think, that we cannot assume that

the Boule functioned for several years without swearing an oath: in ancient conditions that is inconceivable. It has been maintained, however, that, since all that A is asserting is that the year of Hermokreon saw the introduction of the oath still sworn in his day, that oath may have been substituted for an

undocumented earlier oath sworn for a few years. The hypothesis of such an earlier oath cannot be disproved, any more than it can be proved. But no one has come

up with a good

reason

why

the original

oath should

have been

thought unsatisfactory, whereas its successor remained unchanged over two centuries

(except, presumably, during the oligarchic régimes, which cannot

have been prepared to live with it). There was at one time a theory that the powers of the Kleisthenic Boule were at once seen to need cutting down; but this was shown to be unacceptable by Peremans (1941) and has not, I think,

been revived. He himself drew attention to the complexity of Kleisthenes’ task (as I have tried to do in detail) and made the obvious suggestion that the oath of the year of Hermokreon bound the Boule, then first sitting, to obey the laws and fulfil their duty under them. It is difficult to see what else an earlier oath,

now amended, could have done. So, although I admit that the point is not capable of either proof (if one wishes to maintain 10) or disproof, I see no valid reason for hypothesising an earlier oath, almost at once superseded and then of remarkable

longevity.

As far as we

know,

the oath of the archons

was

established under Akastos and no one reports that it had a predecessor.

The fact is that acceptance of the oath of the year of Hermokreon as the first oath of the Kleisthenic Boule implies acceptance of the long theory of the Kleisthenic organisation. Those who reject that theory therefore have to deny the former along with the latter, whether or not they can come up with an explanation. We have noted some examples of the short theory of the tribal organisation and have not found them convincing. But the short theory of the Boule can go to extremes difficult to understand. It has in fact been held that the Kleisthenic Boule was the one that Kleomenes intended to dissolve and that resisted his attempt.*’ That Kleomenes meant to dissolve the hallowed Areopagos (which, as has often been noted, would consist mainly of appointees of the tyrants and would not be a bulwark of democracy) is so unlikely that the

suggestion can be ignored. Most scholars have taken it to be the Solonian Boule of 400, the institution of which is recorded in Ath. Pol. 8.4. In fact, we may regard the incident as conclusive confirmation of the existence of that Boule,

which there is in any case no good reason to doubt. If, however, one is committed to denying it, then nothing is left but to make the Boule connected with Kleomenes

the new Kleisthenic Boule. This seems to me to reduce the

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short theory to an almost farcical extreme: that the motion to set up the new demes, mmityes and tribes was not only passed before the appeal to Kleomenes, as Herodotos asserts (not mentioning the mittyes, of course), but fully executed; and that there was actually time to elect a Bowle on the basis of the new tribal organisation, is an idea that totally misconceives the difficulties of the process that I have tried to point out. Since we must assume that, if the motion was passed, despite Isagoras’ presence and probably presidency,” Isagoras would

waste no time in appealing to his friend to intervene

(and as we know,

Kleomenes came with a totally inadequate force, all that he could muster in a hurry), the actual establishment of the organisation, plus the vote for the new Boule, is compressed into what cannot be more than a matter of very few weeks - hardly enough time to get the messengers out to the villages to make the men enrol

and

to collect the results, even

if we

assume a

totally smooth

and

uncontested process. It is quite possible, as Chambers suggests, that Herodotos and A thought of the Boule in this incident as being the new one:” we have seen that A, for one, was committed to a very short theory, while Herodotos had no idea of what needed to be done. But even if that is so (and it is by no means certain: A, after all, knew about the Solonian Boule), that does not mean that

scholars have to follow them in this strange misconception.”! However,

even

without

going

to this extreme,

those

who

support

the

fashionable short theory and put the year of Alkmaion in 507/6 are compelled to put the institution of the new Boule in 506/5 at the latest. Further delay in forming the Boule could not easily be explained. And this lands them not only

with the necessary invention of a proto-oath for this Boule, but also with the difficult question of why it took five more years before the military organisation was undertaken (or, at least, began to function), even though this cannot be

due to any major military actions, or their effects, after 506/5: there were, it seems, no major battles in the Boiotian war, and the war with Aigina, although it required watchfulness, did not involve any major engagements that would prevent military reorganisation; and of course we do not know of any radical change

in those

wars

in 501/500

that would

enable

it to be

undertaken

precisely then. The short theory, even if not taken to extremes, certainly leads to problems even beyond its inherent implausibility. There can be no fully satisfactory answer to the question of what to do about A’s mistake

in dating

the year of Hermokreon.

But

it would

seem

most

reasonable to make it immediately precede the year when the generals were first elected, i.e. to put it in 502/1. If we take Pollux’ statement to mean that the new tribes began to function in the year of Alkmaion, then that year should be 503/2. It seems reasonable, in that case, to think of the tribal organisation as

completed in 504/3 (which, considering all the difficulties I have tried to

E. BADIAN

460

point out, would not be an unreasonable amount of time after a start late in

508/7), with the Athenians deciding that the new system should begin to be used as from the beginning of the next year. Similarly, the actual decision to

start electing the generals can be assumed to have been taken in the previous year, on our time-table putatively the year of Hermokreon,

which

saw

the

completion of the civil organisation. There ought in fact not to be any great distance between the two, and even A’s three years, if covered by ἔπειτα, seems an excessive interval. But he, of course, was unlikely to have thought in those

terms. Let me conclude by advancing, purely by way of speculation and with no pretence to certainty (at most with the aim of avoiding extreme implausibili-

ty), the following time-table: 508/7

Year of Isagoras: The Kleisthenes’ return.

reforms

507/6-505/4

Archons unknown, The time is occupied with military action and its consequences and with the details of the work of setting up the new demes, mityes and tribes.

504/3

Completion of the tribal organisation and decision to put it into service the following year.

are finally voted

(Archon

on

Akestorides,

after

from

Dionysios.) 503/2

Archon Alkmaion (from Pollux): Tribal organisation begins to

operate. Election of new Boule. 502/1

Archon Hermokreon: New Boule begins to operate. Decision to start the military reorganisation.

501/500

First election of strategot. Archon unknown.

(500/499

Archon Smyros, from Dionysios.)”

BACK ΤΟ KLEISTHENIC CHRONOLOGY

461

BIBLIOGRAPHY Andrewes, A. 1977. “Kleisthenes’ Reform Bill,” CQ ns 27: 241-248. Baba, K. 1984. “On Kerameikos Inv. I 388 (SEG xxii 79),” BSA 79: 1-5. Badian, E. 1971. “Archons and Strategoi,” Annichthon 5: 1-34. Chambers, M. 1990. Aristoteles, Staat der Athener, übersetzt und erläutert von M. Chambers (Berlin). Chambers, M. (ed.). 1994. Aristoteles, ΑΘΗΝΑΙΩΝ IIOAITEIA, editio correctior (Stuttgart & Leipzig). Eliot, C.W.J. 1962. Coastal Demes of Attica (Toronto). Kagan, D. 1963. “The Enfranchisement of Aliens by Cleisthenes,” Historia 12: 41-46. Larsen, J.A.O. 1955. Representanve Government in Greek and Roman History (Berkeley & Los Angeles). Lewis, D.M. 1963. “Cleisthenes and Attica,” Historia 12: 22-40. Mayser, E. 1970. Grammatik der griechischen Papyri aus der Prolemderzeit 1.’ 1, bearbeitet von Hans Schmoll (Berlin). McCargar, D. 1976. “The Relative Date of Kleisthenes’ Legislation,” Histena 25: 385-395, Ostwald, M. 1988. “The Reform of the Athenian State by Cleisthenes,” CAH IV’: 303-346. Peremans, W. 1941. “La jurisdiction pénale de la boulé à Athènes au début du V° siècle avant J.-C.,” ErC! 10: 193-201. Rhodes, P.J. 1972. The Athenian Boule (Oxford). Rhodes, P.J. 1981. A Commentary on the Aristoteian Athenaion Politeia (Oxford). Schwyzer, E. 1939. Griechische Grammatik I (München). Seager, R. 1963. “Herodotus and Ath. Pol. on the Date of Cleisthenes’ Reform,” AFP 84: 287-289. Susemihl, F. & Hicks, R.D. 1894. The Politics of Anstotle, Books 1-5 (London/New York). Thompson, W.E. 1964. “Three Thousand Acharnian Hoplites,” Historia 13: 400-413.

Thompson, W.E. 1971. “The Deme in Kleisthenes’ Reforms,” SymbOslo 46: 72-79. Traill, J.S. 1975. The Political Organization of Arica (Princeton). Traill, J.S. 1986. Demos and Trutys (Toronto). Whitehead, D. 1977. The Ideology of the Athenian Metic (Cambridge).

NOTES *

Tam happy to have a chance of dedicating this essay to Mogens Herman Hansen, who has done more for the ancient Greek polis than most of its politicians ever did.

1.

I shall refer to the author of this work as A, to avoid irrelevant discussion of his identity. I shall necessarily limit my references to modern treatments to a few that I consider particularly important contributions to the points under discussion. But let me at once acknowledge my indebtedness to the two great commentaries, Rhodes (1981) and Chambers (1990): Ido not want

2.

3.

occasional disagreement to obscure that debr. Significantly, Trail! (1986) alludes to and presents one or two new texts of the late fourth century, but adds a considerable body of corrections to Traill (1975) and presents a new map. Cf. n. 17 below. For such speculation see (perhaps best known and most often cited) Lewis (1963). Note, as one

example of how the game is played by excellent scholars, Thompson (1964) 406 n. 43: Kleisthenes himself arranged for the Alkmaionidai to be in three tribes (for this see Lewis [1963]),

E. BADIAN

462

in part so that they could attempt to win three positions in the strategia. Apart from the obvious comment that they would have competition in each of the tribes and would not own them, the statement overlooks the fact that the strategia was not conceived by Kleisthenes as the supreme office it became after Kimon’s successes. (On this, see Badian [1971].)

On this see further below. But it is worth pointing out that Seager (1963), claiming that A is using only Herodotos

and is therefore not aiming to contradict him, was demolished

(1976): decisive whether or not we accept his suggestion that

by McCargar

A may have known an onginal

document of the time. It should be clear that A, while using Herodotos, has other sources as well.

He differs not only on the time-table, but on one or two details, e.g. on the extent of the impunity sworn to the adherents of Kleomenes when they left the Akropolis, where Herodotos limits it to the Lakedaimonians

and cites specific instances of others who were executed, while A (20.3)

extends it, wrongly, to “all who were with (Kleomenes)”. Ostwald’s idea, cautiously cited by Chambers (1990) 223, that “all who were with him” means only the Spartans hardly needs discussion. (A does not relate Herodotos’ executions.) It should be clear that A here already used,

though sparingly, the Atthidographic source to which he then exclusively turns. For this see Thompson (1971) 74. See immediately below on the difficulties this ignores. Ostwald (1988) 302ff. Unfortunately a variant of this is now enshrined in Chambers (1990). With its acceptance in two standard works it threatens to become canonical. πολλοὺς ἐφυλέτευσε ξένους καὶ δούλους μετοίκους. μετοίκους surely stands in apposition to the other

two nouns (“living among the Athenians”). The passage, incidentally, clearly illustrates the meaning “Mitbewohner” for μέτοικος, which Whitehead (1977) is unwilling to admit. He has difficulties with this passage. For a slightly different rendering (and comprehensive bibliography}

see Rhodes (1981) 255. δημότας ἐποίησεν ἀλλήλων τοὺς οἰκοῦντας ἐν ἑκάστῳ τῶν δήμων. For the meaning “freedmen”, see Susemihl-Hicks (1894) 361-362. The Politics passage was described by Kagan (1963) 42 as “the

only direct evidence for the enfranchisement of aliens by Cleisthenes”. A’s statement must at least be regarded as indirect evidence. See, however, the absurd comment by H. Rackham

in the Locb edition (64 note b): “he made

the deme a social group, united by almost a family feeling.” 10.

I am not concerned with who these enfranchised aliens were: probably of quite varied background. As the addition of the freedmen makes clear, Kleisthenes wanted all free residents

of Attika to be citizens: as Aristotle says, it must have been a major addition to the citizen body. Nor am I concerned with discussions of metic status after Kleisthenes: see, e.g., Baba (1984). I

cannot

see any evidence

for the theory, suggested by Whitehead

(1977)

and others, that

Kleisthenes somchow organised the later metic status. His actions, as attested, do not suggest any

11.

such preoccupation. But I agree with Whitehead (1977) 145 that metics were never “members” of the political demes. Chambers (1990) 222 thinks that Herodotos did not mean to date the reforms to before Kleomenes’ arrival, but was merely finishing off the idea of the attachment of Kicisthenes to his grandfather. This is in part based on the unacceptable proposition that A is here based entirely on Herodotos. (See further below.) In view of the clear chronological sequence expressed in 69.2

12.

13.

14.

and the beginning of 70 I regard Andrewes’ interpretation as the only tenable one. Thompson (1964) 406 regards it as at least possible, since Kleisthenes had to avoid any appearance of political partisanship. (Thompson only argues against Eliot [1962].) I would describe it as politically necessary, for the reason he states. Variations in deme representation seem to be almost entirely limited to adding or subtracting one representative, no doubt explicable ad hoc in each instance. Down to 411 he gives only four more dates of consututional laws, three of them in a nest similar to chapter 22: the reforms of Ephialtes (he is not clear what they were in detail); the admission

of zeugttai to the archonship; the appointment of circuit judges; and Perikles’ citizenship law (26.2-4, no doubt all collected in one source).

15.

On this see Badian (1971)

16. 17.

Larsen (1955) 9. In Traill (1975) Rhamnous is plausibly attached to coastal Tetrapoleis (Aiantis) and Probalinthos to coastal! Myrrhinous (Pandionis). By 1986 each has migrated to a city mys (Rhamnous to

10 n. 28.

BACK TO KLEISTHENIC

CHRONOLOGY

463

Phaleron, Probalinthos to the large Kydathenaion) without, of course, changing its geographical location. This surely gives some idea of Kleisthenes’ problems! 18.

19. 20,

Whether the abacus was used as early as this does not seem to be known. As for the numerals,

when we pick up their use by mid-fifth century, the Athenians had had plenty of time to learn to use them comfortably. So, it seems, Andrewes (1977), closely followed by Ostwald (1988) and also by Chambers (1990) 221, without new discussion. That the phrase ἀκήρυκτος πόλεμος here means that there was an attack without a declaration of war is clear from the fact that Phaleron was sacked. Had the Athenians anticipated an attack, they

would have been able to prevent this. Casual raids against minor demoi could be guarded against, but not prevented. But Phaleron would not have been left undefended.

For the events see Hdt.

5.79-81. (Note 81.3, μεγάλως ᾿Αθηναίους ἐσινέοντο [Rosén: the reading of the last word is not certain, but the meaning is not affected].) It must also be stressed that Herodotos reports the war

21.

22.

23. 24,

against the Boiotians as still going on at the time of the the Athenians’ major preoccupation, although he seems how long these wars continued. κατάστασις is found about half a dozen times in A (see seems to refer to a new arrangement or appointment “arrangement” (of the polis).

Aiginetan attacks. He implies that it was to have had no details. We do not know the index in Sandys’ edition). It always except in 42.1, where it simply means

Thus Chambers (1990) 235ff., well aware of the fact that other dates have been proposed and (it seems) chiefly relying on Andrewes for the date he adopts. First by Kenyon in the edino princeps. His discussion is now largely (and deservedly) forgotten,

except for this point. See Chambers (1994) 19 (his edition) ad loc. For the London papyrus, see Chambers (1990) 93. The situation is rather confused. For the beginning of etacism in the second century BC (which would not leave much time for che error) see Schwyzer (1939) 186. More accurately, Mayser-Schmoll (1970), collecting all the evidence they knew, 46-47 for examples of ε standing for n, practically none after mid-second century BC.

For ı for n and vice versa, see 51-53 (starting third century BC). They cite no example of confusion in numerals.

25.

Note

the structure

of the sequence:

πρῶτον

μὲν … ἔπειτα _ ἔτει δὲ μετὰ ταῦτα δωδεκάτῳ.

The

chronological interpretation is supported by Chambers (1990) 326. We should add that A can have had no source that would give a sequence by months within a year.

26. 27.

See Peremans (1941) (“sens fondamental”), and thus frequently down to (and perhaps beyond) Chambers (1990) 236. See Chambers (1990) 222 (based on the hypothesis that A merely copied Herodotos). See further

nn. 30 and 31 below. 28.

We cannot presume to know what that Boude had to do, even less to deny that there was enough for it to be needed. That we do not hear of it between Solon and Kleomenes is not surprising: there are few occasions when the Solonian Assembly is mentioned and no reason why, on those occasions, the Boule should be specified.

29.

Lewis (1963) 38 suggests that Isagoras was irrelevant: it was a “revolutionary situation” and plain violence would see the motion through. I am afraid that term has often been applied to Kleisthenes’ action and its background. There is not the slightest indication in our two sources,

nor in any later allusion to Kleisthenes, of any violence or threat of it, except of course against Kleomenes and his following. It would be very surprising, especially in view of the fighting involved on that occasion, if civic violence, either before or after, had been completely blorted

30.

from historical memory. Kleisthenes’ reforms were perhaps “revolutionary” in their effects, but the facile conclusion that they must therefore have been accompanied by revolutionary violence is pure fancy. We might compare the Glorious Revolution in England, which also in due course had “revolutionary” effects. Chambers (1990) 223 — but properly admitting that Herodotos may in principle have meant the Areopagos or the Solonian Boule.

31.

Chambers does recognise that, whatever the two sources may have thought, it is quite inconceivable that the reorganisation was complete and the new Boule elected by this time. He therefore tries to make do with “ein provisorischer Rat” (222), citing E. Will in support. But how

464

32.

Ε. BADIAN

would such a provisional Council (a Committee of Public Safery, as Chambers describes it) have been constituted? Was it self-appointed? If so, could anyone have called it a Boule? Surely Herodotos and A mean a properly constituted Council, whichever it is. And I must repeat, with most scholars, that there is simply no acceptable alternative to its being the Solonian Boule. As for the repeated statement in many commentators, that A was merely copying Herodotos, see McCargar (1976), cited n. 4 above and too often ignored (e.g. by Ostwald [1988]). Differences have to be explained away, not only the one in chronology, but the difference on the cath to Kleomenes’ companions, which is too striking to be successfully ignored. (On this, see again n. 4 above.) [fA thought the resisters to Kleomenes were the Kleisthenic Boule, even though he was well aware of the Solonian one, it was not through thoughtless copying of Herodotos, but because he had (naively) come to hold a very short theory regarding the completion of the reforms. (See p. 456). The spelling of Greek names in this essay is not my own.

Who

Ran Democratic

Athens?’

P.J. RHODES

I start from

Thucydides,

2.65:

in 430,

after deposing

Perikles

from

his

generalship of 431/0 (which is mentioned by Diod. 12.45.4 and Plut. Per. 35.45 but not by Thucydides), the Athenians again “elected him general and entrusted the whole conduct of affairs to him” (2.65.4); he “held the masses on a light rein, and led them rather than let them lead him”

result was in theory democracy but in fact Elsewhere in Book 2 we read that at the time 431 Perikles “refused to call an assembly or the people might make a mistake if they met judgment”

(2.65.8); “the

rule by the first man” (2.65.9). of the Peloponnesian invasion in any kind of meeting, fearing that in a spirit of passion rather than

(2.22.1); but at the time of the second invasion in 430, when the

Athenians’ commitment to the war was wavering, “he called a meeting (since he was still in office as general)” (2.59.3). My concern in this paper is not with Thucydides’ representation of Perikles

but with the system in which Perikles and the other Athenian politicians had to work. If it is wrong to talk of Perikles as “prime minister of Athens”, and of such entities as the “moderate democratic party” or the “war party”, as people used to talk, how ought we to talk? Did the Athenians, could the Athenians, “entrust the whole conduct of affairs” to Perikles? What formal powers could a Perikles or a Kleon possess? What further means of exercising influence did

they have, in addition to their formal powers? How far was anybody able to work out a policy for Athens and to see that Athens followed that policy? If there was not anything like a “moderate democratic party” or a “war party”, what groups of like-minded citizens were there? Let us begin with formal powers.

In the two middle quarters of the fifth

century the ten generals

(strategot) were not only military commanders

political

were

leaders.

They

elected

annually

and

could

be

but

re-elected.

Originally one had to be from each of the ten tribes; but by the 430s the system

had been modified so that at any rate one tribe could supply no general and one other could supply two. It used to be thought that the purpose of the modification was to make one man general-in-chief, or to recognise Perikles’ special position and provide an opportunity for other men in his tribe; but it has now been established that (with the exception of Alkibiades in 407/6)? Classical Athens never had a general-in-chief, superior to the other nine;’ and

466

P.J. RHODES

it seems likely that the modification of the system of electing generals was

intended to provide not for any kind of superior general but for cases in which one or more tribes did not have any strong candidate of their own for the

generalship.‘ Plutarch tells us that Perikles was elected general for each of the last fifteen years of his life (Per. 16.3). The fifteen may not be precisely right, and I should

not be happy with the assumption that Perikles must not have been general in 444/3,° but we have independent evidence that he was general in most of the years from 441/0 onwards, and I see no reason to doubt it for the years for which we lack evidence. This repeated election of Perikles was at the same time

a recognition of his standing in Athens and a means of conferring formal power on him. But what power? The generals commanded appointed by the assembly to command,

expeditions which they were

and presumably they had on-going

duties in connection with the army and navy. On campaign, they might have to take various decisions which could not wait for consultation of the assembly, but they risked trouble if they took decisions which the assembly disapproved of, as the generals who acquiesced in the treaty of Gela in Sicily in 424 found out when they returned to Athens (Thuc. 4.65) - though as far as we can tell they really had no choice in that matter.

In the political realm in Athens

itself the generals had very little con-

stitutional power. Two passages from Thucydides Book 2 which I cited at the beginning of this paper suggest that during the Peloponnesian War they had

some power in connection with decisions to summon

or not to summon

meetings of the assembly, decisions which normally rested with the council of five hundred and its standing committee, the prytaneis; and, whereas nearly every

surviving

decree

of the

assembly

has

as its proposer

an

individual

identified by name, among the few exceptions there are two from the time of the Peloponnesian War which are recorded as gnome strategon, a proposal of the generals (16 I? 89.55sqq.; 92). As we shall see, any Athenian citizen in full possession of his rights could make a proposal in the assembly; I am sure there

were many occasions when one of the generals made a proposal and the proposal was recorded in his own name, without any indication of the fact that he was a general; in proposing these two decrees as a body the generals were not exercising any special power, but these two decrees do suggest that during the

Peloponnesian War the generals had a slightly higher political profile than at other times — but only slightly. Formal constitutional power will not have taken Perikles very far towards one-man rule in Athens: he was not superior to his fellow generals, and the power of the generals was limited; despite Thucydides, the Athenians in 430 did not “entrust the whole conduct of affairs to him”.

WHO

RAN DEMOCRATIC

ATHENS?

467

So, if Perikles or anybody else enjoyed a dominant position in Athens, this was not through formal political power.° Where did formal power lie, and in

what ways could a dominant figure dominate? In

Classical

Athens

all

important

decisions

and

many

comparatively

unimportant ones were taken by an assembly which was open to all adult male

citizens, and normally attended by about 6,000 of them (between 10 and 20 per cent of those eligible). In Athens as in other Greek states the making of the decision in the assembly had to be preceded by a discussion in a smaller body, the council of five hundred

(fAnst.} Arh. Pol. 45.4); but the Athenian inter-

pretation of that rule required only that the council should agree to put an item on the assembly’s agenda: the council could make a positive recommendation

but it did not have to do so; and once the item reached the assembly any citizen was free to make a speech, and any citizen was free to put forward a fresh proposal or an amendment to a proposal already made. A man who wanted to direct Athenian policy had to persuade the citizens

to vote for his proposals and the proposals of men who thought on the same lines as he did; and if he held office as general that might make it easier for him to catch the chairmen’s eyes and be invited to speak, and it might add weight to what he said, but it gave him no advantage beyond that. I shall consider the organisation of support below, but the debates in the assembly were not a sham: some at least of the citizens will have gone with a relatively open mind, intending to decide how to vote after they had listened to the speeches — some of them, I dare say, taking the arguments seriously and deciding on the basis of the arguments, others being more like the “spectators of speeches” referred to by Kleon in the Mytilene debate (Thuc. 3.38.4), swayed more by the performances as performances than by the content of the speeches. I imagine there were more floating voters in the Athenian assembly than there are in a modern parliament, and a successful politician had to be a successful speaker, who could persuade those floating voters. Kleon is often referred to as one of the first examples of a new kind of politician,’ and one of the ways in which he differed from men like Perikles is that he did not hold the generaiship,

or any other office, year after year.

Indeed, it may never have occurred to him that a man like himself could be

general until in the debate on Pylos in 425 Nikias invited Kleon to take over his

generalship

distinctly

and,

reluctant

if we to do

can so

belteve

(Thuc.

Thucydides’ 4.27.5-28.4).°

narrative, The

basis

Kleon

was

of Kleon’s

position in Athens was not that he had been appointed to a major office but

simply that he was τῷ πλήθει πιθανώτατος, the man whom the masses found most

persuasive

(Thuc.

4.21.3).

The

“new

politicians”

were

primarily

speakers; the arts of argument and public speaking were among those taught

468

PJ. RHODES

by the sophists to men

who

wanted

to succeed

in public

life; and

rhezor,

“speaker”, was one of the words which came to be used in the fourth century to denote a politician.

Making good speeches was important, but of course it was not the only thing that mattered. I agree with Finley that it would be naive to think that “Pericles came to a vital assembly meeting armed with nothing but his intelligence, his knowledge, his charisma and his oratorical skill, essential as all four attributes

were”.? Since every decision in the assembly was preceded by a discussion in the council, access to the council was useful. Every citizen — whether general, or

holder of some other office, or lay citizen not holding any office - had the night to apply to the prytaneis for permission to address the council, and I am sure this was a right which the leading politicians exercised. But it was helpful to be a member

of the council,

or else to have

one or more

friends who

were

members of the council, who could ensure that the leader’s approaches met

with a favourable response, and could leader’s suggestions or which referred assembly. Members of the council were their demes, for one year at a time, and

make proposals which embodied the the leader and his suggestions to the appointed by lot, as representatives of nobody could serve more than twice

in his life. Probably there was not a great deal of competition for appointment,

and a man who wanted a place for himself in a particular year would be able to get it without too much difficulty; but a leader who wanted support in the

council year after year would need a fair number of friends to represent his interests. In the mid fourth century, it was probably not just accidental that Demosthenes was himself a member of the council in 347/6, the year in which Athens made a peace treaty with Philip of Macedon: his opponent Aischines alleges that he obtained his place by bribery (In Cres. 62), but we need not take

that seriously. In a later year Aischines refers to Demosthenes’ getting one of the members to make a proposal on his behalf, and this time the accusation is

that the innocent proposer did not understand the effects of the proposal he was induced to make (Jn Cres. 125). In the late fifth century, Kleon himself was a member of the council either in 428/7 (appointed just after Perikles’ death) or more

probably

in 427/6

(the year in which

the fate

of Mytilene

was

decided); Hyperbolos was a member in 421/0 (appointed just after the death

of Kleon at Amphipolis).’° Athens certainly did not have political parties of the modern kind, with a

policy on a range of issues, an organisation, signed-up members and discipline to keep the members on the right lines. It came nearer to that in the 340s and the 330s than at other times, when for Demosthenes resistance to Philip of Macedon was all-important, whatever its effect on Athens’ finances, while for

WHO RAN DEMOCRATIC ATHENS?

469

Euboulos, Aischines and their supporters the restoration of Athens’ finances was all-important, even if it meant collaborating with Philip, and Demosthenes could

complain

that

Philip

required

his

supporters

to

be

friendly

with

supporters of Philip and not with opponents of Philip (Dem. 19.225-226). At that time, electing Demosthenes to a major office did mean voting for resistance to Philip.'' At other times, some men would inevitably be known as

pro-Spartan and so on — when Kimon was ostracised in 461 his opponents objected to him as pro-Spartan and anti-democratic, philolakon and misodemos

(Plut. Per. 9.5) -- but when they stood for office they stood primarily as individuals, and if they were associated with a particular policy that was only one of the relevant facts about them. Various other facts might be relevant. After Solon had liberated the dependent peasants known as hektemoroi, Athens no longer had a class of men who were formally dependent on others, but for a long time after that many ordinary citizens may

still have

been

informally dependent

on one

of the

greater families. Most citizens certainly, and probably all, belonged to one of the quasi-kinship organisations known as phratries; the old view that a typical

phratry had at its core an aristocratic genos (“clan”) which enjoyed a privileged

position in the phratry has come under attack,!? but I think it is still possible that the phratries began as organisations which linked a major family with its dependants, and it is certainly true that the same families belonged to the same phratries for generations and that these were units through which patterns of informal influence could be built up and maintained.'? Since the reforms of Kleisthenes, every citizen had also belonged to a deme, and

to the zrıztys and

the tribe of which

his deme

formed

a part.

Deme

membership like phratry membership was hereditary. When this structure was first set up, each citizen lived in or at any rate owned some property in the deme

to which he belonged; Thucydides

tells us that there was not much

geographical mobility before the Peloponnesian War (2.14.2); during and after the war the proportion of citizens living in the deme they belonged to is likely to have declined, though we do not know to what extent. The demes, mtityes and tribes were units through which the leading men could exercise influence. Kimon offered daily supplies to all his fellow-demesmen ({Arist.] Ath. Pol. 27.3);'* in speeches attributed to Lysias we find references to men’s giving help to their fellow-demesmen at the time of a military expedition (Lys. 16.14,

31.15-16). The institution of liturgies is important here — the institution by which rich men,

instead of having their money

taken from them

in taxation by state

officials and then spent by state officials, were called on to spend their money directly for some public purpose, maintaining and commanding one of the

470

P.J. RHODES

navy’s ships for a year, or paying for and training a group of people giving a performance in a festival. The liturgies we hear most about were liturgies of the Athenian state, but there were also some local liturgies in individual demes.

Through this system of liturgies rich men were forced into the public eye, but there was more to it than that. Many of the liturgies were competitive. Sometimes prizes were offered for the trierarchs whose ships were the first to be ready to sail; and in any case a trierarch would naturally want his ship to be smarter and better equipped than his rivals’ ships.'” There were competitions in connection with many of the festival performances which were supported by liturgies - tragedies, comedies, dithyrambs for boys’ choruses, dithyrambs for men’s choruses, and so on — and to win the prize you needed not only a good text to perform but also well costumed and well trained performers. In some of the competitions, the rival groups of performers were representatives of their tribes: they were not for the tragedies and comedies, but they were (for instance) for the dithyrambs. It was regarded as a sign of a patriotic citizen to perform more liturgies, and to devote more money and effort to them, than the minimum that could be required of him, and in law-court speeches men boast of the liturgies they have undertaken (§§ 1-10 of Lys. 21 [Defence on a Charge of Taking Bribes], provide

a good example). A lavish and successful performance would bring a man distinction: Nikias was a great performer of liturgies, and he was particularly renowned for the delegation which he led to the great festival of Apollo on Delos in 417 (Plut. Nic. 3-4.1); the next year, 416, Alkibiades entered seven

teams in the chariot race at Olympia, a more blatantly self-centred form of festival expenditure, but he is represented by Thucydides as jusnfying that on the grounds

that it was not simply selfish indulgence

but it as well as his

performance of liturgies brought glory to Athens (Thuc. 6.16.2-3, replying to the accusation of Nikias, 6.12.2). In addition to the general distinction which

could be earned through a successful liturgy, there was also the particular pride and gratitude of those associated with the success: the men who had rowed in the trierarch’s ship or who had performed in the choregos’ chorus, and to a lesser extent all the members

of the tribe whose chorus had won this year’s

dithyrambic competition. Liturgies provided the leading men with an opportunity to win distinction in general and to win the support of some men in particular. If we slice Athenian society in another direction, we can find another way in which men who wanted to acquire supporters could find them. Athens did not have the elaborate system of age classes for which Sparta is famous, but we do often

find Athenians

referring not only to their fellow-demesmen

-tribesmen but also to their contemporaries,

and

their Aelıkiotai. For two years

WHO

RAN DEMOCRATIC

ATHENS?

471

between the ages of eighteen and twenty an Athenian was in a special intermediate category as an ephebos, “on the verge of adulthood”. In the 330s a regular system of military and patriotic training was instituted for the

epheboi,'° but we know that before then the word was already in use and there were training opportunities for those who wanted to take advantage of them, and this will have thrown together men born in the same year. By the second half of the fourth century, but apparently not earlier, a selective call-up of

hoplites to fight in the army was made by summoning the men of specified agegroups.'’ Men of more or less the same age will have exercised together in the gymnasion, and will have drunk together in the symposion; hetaireiai, groups of men who shared a social and sometimes a political purpose, will have been groups of contemporaries. A man who wanted to become a political leader would have various opportunities to make himself known to and to win the support of his contemporaries, and he could be expected to make the most of them. In the debate on the Sicilian expedition, Nikias, himself about twenty

years older than Alkibiades,'® refers to the younger men who have been summoned to the assembly to support Alkibiades, and urges the older men not to be ashamed to oppose them (Thuc. 6.{12.2-]13.1). One particular kind of supporter we should look out for is the man who attaches himself to one of the political leaders and becomes as it were an agent of that leader,

a man who perhaps hopes that he will himself be one of the

leaders of the next generation: the word hetairos, “companion”, is often used

to refer specifically to agents of this kind. So Perikles is said to have reserved himself for the great occasions, and otherwise to have had “friends and other speakers” active in the assembly on his behalf; Metiochos, described as “one of the Aetairoi of Perikles”, was mocked by a comedian as a Jack-of-all-trades

who held every kind of office (Plut. Per. 7.7-8, Prae. ger. reip. 811c-813a).” Agents could do more than make speeches in the council and assembly on a leader’s behalf and hold offices in which they would cooperate with their leader. There is the notorious hoard of 190 ostraca prepared in the 480s for use against Themistokles, the work of just fourteen hands;* and the story of Athens’ last ostracism, in which Alkibiades and Nikias colluded to secure the removal

of Hyperbolos,

implies that Alkibiades and Nikias had supporters

whose votes they could to some extent contro!.”’ Otherwise our best evidence

for the work of political agents comes

from the run-up

to the oligarchic

revolutions of 411 and 404 (Thuc. 8.54.4, 66.1; Lys. 12.43-47); but the kind

of activity which was mentioned there must also have been engaged in by loyal democrats in more normal times, and indeed Thucydides refers to the hetatretai

as “the conspiracies which already happened to exist in the city with a view to lawsuits and offices”.

472

P.J. RHODES

The mention of lawsuits brings me to another area in which a man could draw attention to himself and win supporters (but also make enemies). The Athenians’ reputation for being addicted to litigation seems to have been well

deserved: what we know of the arrangements for trials suggests that a fairly large number of Athenians went to law fairly often. Trials were very personal

affairs. Even on charges of offences against the state, it was nearly always left to one or more individuals to prosecute on their own initiative, and, although

the prosecutors and defendants could enlist friends to speak on their behalf, and could employ experts to write their own speeches for them, they were expected to stand up in court and deliver their speeches themselves. And sometimes in the speeches delivered in trials men did not keep narrowly to the subject of the charge, but reviewed their own and their opponents’ careers and tried to demonstrate that they were more satisfactory citizens than their

opponents.” The Athenians did not distinguish as we should like between unlawful behaviour and politically unwise or unsuccessful behaviour, so there were many prosecutions of politicians for advising a course of action that had turned out badly or of generals for failing to win a battle - often with an allegation of bribery thrown in -- and there were many more cases where the formal charge was not overtly political but the background information reveals a political motive. Juries were large — always hundreds and sometimes thousands - so a good speech in court would impress almost as large an audience as a good speech in the assembly. The lawcourts gave the politicians the opportunity not

only to attack their opponents but to keep themselves in the public eye, to remind people of their liturgies and other achievements, and to support their hetatroi, their fellow-demesmen and their other friends and dependants, and to

earn their gratitude and their support in turn. Let us return to the running of Athens. When generals were elected, some

men would vote for a candidate because of his reputation as a commander; some would vote because of a personal connection, through a phratry or a deme

to which

they both belonged,

or because

the candidate

was

a con-

temporary whom the voter had known for many years; and indeed some might vote for him because they approved of what he stood for. Some candidates would have little trouble in getting themselves elected, because they were lucky and had no serious rival in their own tribe; another tribe might have three or four serious candidates, of whom one would be elected as general from his own

tribe and another might fill a place left vacant by a tribe with no strong candidate of its own. Sometimes a man would be elected in a particular year because he had connections with a particular area and it looked as if those connections were going to be useful in the year in question: Thucydides, with

WHO

RAN DEMOCRATIC

ATHENS?

473

his connections in Thrace, elected for 424/3, may be an example of this.”’ It really does not make sense to do as people did in the first half of the twentieth century, to analyse the list of generals as far as we know it (and even for the time of the Peloponnesian War we do not know all the generals of every year)

and to argue that in one year the war party was in the ascendant but in the next

year the moderate conservatives regained the upper hand.”* Men with different views could be elected in the same year, if each of them had enough supporters, and even appointed to command the same expedition.

I imagine that this is how we should explain the appointment of both Alkibiades and Nikias to command the Sicilian expedition in 415, rather than supposing that “the Athenians”

- meaning

the electorate as a whole -- de-

liberately chose to appoint both men in the hope that each would counteract the excesses of the other.”* In 433 Kimon’s son Lakedaimonios was one of the

three generals given the command of Athens’ first squadron of ships sent to support Kerkyra against Korinth: Thucydides gives the names of the generals without any comment (1.45.3); Plutarch thinks that Perikles contrived this in order to humiliate Lakedaimonios

(Per. 29.1-2), but there are other, more

likely possibilities. The decision to support Kerkyra had been a close thing (Thuc. 1.44.1), and it may be that Lakedaimonios owed his appointment not to Perikles but to Athenians who were unhappy with Perikles’ willingness to risk a confrontation with the Peloponnesians, and who were numerous enough to get one of their men appointed. This brings us back to the making of policy and the passing of decrees through the assembly. There were not political parties with programmes and

disciplines, but leading politicians did have agents, and had supporters of various kinds. Perikles will have had a hard core of men who normally voted

for proposals which he made or was known to approve of — because of a family or personal connection with Perikles, or because they thought he was a good leader, or because they wanted the same things for Athens as he did. There will also have

been

a large outer layer of men

who

would

sometimes

vote as

Perikles wanted on some issues, but whose support had to be won again and again, and could not be counted on. Other politicians will have fancied themselves as leaders too — Perikles was never the unchallenged leader Thucydides wants us to believe - and sometimes they and their supporters will have backed Perikles and sometimes they will have not. Perikles was not a prime minister who had to have a policy on every issue that arose in the assembly: there may well have been some questions on which he was happy

to accept whatever the outcome

was. And,

on questions on

which he did have a policy, he could usually ensure that proposals he wanted were made,

but he could not ensure

that other proposals were not made.

474

P.J. RHODES

Thanks to the evidence of texts inscribed on stone, we Know a fair number of

decrees and their proposers from the fifth and fourth centuries. A few men rurn up as proposers several times; a few more three or four times; and a great many just once or twice. The decrees we have are only a small fraction of the total that were enacted: if we had more, we should have more from the men whose names already turn up frequently, but we should also find many more turning

up just once or twice. Athens’ democratic machinery encouraged, and indeed required, participation by the ordinary citizens, and the result was that some

men devoted a large amount of time and effort to public affairs, while many more were not active in that way regularly but were occasionally — perhaps in the year in which they served in the council, or, like some members

of the

British House of Lords, when a subject in which they had a particular interest came up. Some of the men who proposed decrees occasionally may have been

acting on behalf of one of the leading politicians — as one of Perikles’ men in the council this year, for instance. Others, pretty certainly, will not have been anybody’s agent but will have proposed their one decree because they wanted to do so. I believe that Perikles and other leading politicans did have a policy for

Athens, a general direction in which they wanted Athens to move. But I do not believe that they felt obliged to have a strong opinion and to influence the

decision on every question that came before the assembly; and even when they did have a strong opinion and did want to influence the decision they could not be sure of getting the decision they wanted

every time. The

assembly was

perfectly capable of taking one decision at one meeting, and then at its next meeting (or even at the same meeting) taking another decision which would

hamper the carrying-out of the first — not because the mob was fickle, as Thucydides and other critics of democracy would have us think (e.g. Thuc.

2.65.3-4), but simply because different proposals attracted the support of different collections of men within an unregulated body of voters. I believe that Perikles could count on getting decisions that he was happy with most of the time, on most of the issues he felt strongly about, and that to that extent the policies which Athens followed between about 460 and 430 were on the whole

Perikles’ policies, but that he could never be sure of getting the decision that he wanted

on a particular issue on a particular occasion.

I believe that the

decision to support Kerkyra in 433 was the decision which Perikles wanted, which Thucydides

does not state but Plutarch

does

(Per.

29.1); but what

Thucydides does state is that on the first day in the assembly opinion tended to favour Korinth against Kerkyra (1.44.1). Athens was not anarchic: in practice, most of the time there was enough

agreement on ends and means for the separate decisions of the assembly to

WHO

take Athens

RAN DEMOCRATIC

ATHENS?

475

reasonably consistently in one direction.

But the potential for

anarchy was always there, and sometimes two steps forwards were followed by

one step backwards. control: if we want a shifting coalitions of parties of the United

No one man, however influential, was ever entirely in paraltel from the modern world we should think of the a country like Italy rather than the entrenched majority Kingdom or the United States.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Andrewes, A. 1981. “The Hoplite Katalogos,” Classical Contributions Presented to M.F. MeGregor (Locust Valley) 1-3. Atkinson, J.E. 1992. “Curbing the Comedians: Cleon Versus Aristophanes and Syracosius’

Decree,” CQ’ 42: 56-64. Bloedow, E.F. 1981. “Hipponicus and Euthydemus (Euthynus),” Chiron 11: 65-72. Bloedow, E.F. 1987. “Pericles’ Powers in the Counter-Strategy of 431,” Historia 36: 9-22. Bourriot, F. 1976. Recherches surla nature du genos, Champion for U. de Lille ΠῚ (Paris). Broneer, ©. 1938. “Excavations on the North Slope of the Acropolis, 1937: Ostraka,” Hesperia 7: 228-243. Bury, J.B., & Meiggs, R. 1975. A History of Greece to the Death of Alexander the Great (4th edn. London). Connor, W.R. 1971. The New Politicians of Fifth-Century Athens (Princeton). Davies, J.K. 1971. Athenian Propertied Families, 600-300 B.C. (Oxford). Dover, K.J. 1960. “δέκατος αὐτός,7 JHS 80: 61-77. Dover, K.J. 1988. The Greeks and their Legacy, Collected Papers U (Oxford). Finley, M.I. 1983. Pobrics in the Ancient World (Cambridge). Gomme, A.W. et al. 1945-81. A Historical Commentary on Thucydides (Oxford). Hansen, M.H. 1983. The Athenian Ecclesia (Copenhagen). Hansen, M.H. 1984. “The Number of Rherores in the Athenian Ecclesia, 355-322 B.C.,” GRBS 25: 123-155. Hansen, M.H. 1987. The Athenian Assembly ın the Age of Demosthenes (Oxford). Hansen, M.H. 1989. The Athenian Ecclesia II (Copenhagen). Hansen, M.H. 1991. The Athenian Democracy in the Age of Demosthenes (Oxford). Ito, S. 1997. “*Genos’ in Ancient Athens: Bourriot’s Theory Re-examined,” Shigaku-Zasshi 106.11. Kagan, D. 1981. The Peace of Nicias and the Sicilian Expedition (Ithaca). Lambert, S.D. 1993. The Phrarries of Attica (Ann Arbor). Lang, M. 1990. The Athenian Agora xxv. Ostraka (Princeton). Lewis, D.M. 1992. “The Archidamian War,” CAH? V: 370-432. Millett, P.C. 1989. “Patronage and Its Avoidance in Classical Athens,” in A. WallaceHadrill (ed.), Parronage in Ancient Society (London)

15-47.

Mitchell, L.G. 1997. Greeks Bearing Gifts: The Public Use of Private Relationships in the Greek World, 432-323 B.C. (Cambridge). Mitchell, L.G. 2000. “A New Look at the Election of Generals at Athens,” Kito 82: forthcoming. Ober, J. 1989. Mass and Elite in Democratic Athens (Princeton). Piérart, M. 1974. “A propos de l’election des stratéges athéniens,” BCH 98: 125-146.

476

P.J. RHODES

Rhodes, P.J. 1972. The Athenian Boule (Oxford). Rhodes, P.J. 1978. “On Labelling Fourth-Century Politicians,” LCM 3: 207211.

Rhodes, P.J. 1981.

A Commentary on the Aristotelian Athenaion Politeia (Oxford).

Rhodes, P.J. 1986. “Political Activity in Classical Athens,” JHS

Rhodes, PJ. 1994. Ritual, Finance, 85-98. Roussel, D. 1976. Ste. Croix, G.E.M. Wade-Gery, H.T. Wade-Gery, H.T. West, A.B.

106: 132-144,

“The Ostracism of Hyperbolus,” in R. Osborne & 5. Hornblower (eds.), Politics: Athenian Democranc Accounts Presented to David Lewis (Oxford) Tribu de. 1932. 1958.

εἰ cite, Ann. Litt. U. Besancon cxciii (Paris). 1972. The Origins of the Peloponnesian War (London). “Thucydides the Son of Melesias,” FHS 52: 205-227. Essays in Greek History (Oxford).

1924. “Pericles’ Political Heirs,” CP 19: 124-146, 201-228.

NOTES l.

My helikiotes Mogens Hansen has been a friend and a sparring-partner for a long time: it is a pleasure to honour him now and (since we are honouring him at an early age) to wish him many

more years in which to enlighten us and stimulate us. This paper was originally written for an audience which knew far less about the subject than he does, but I hope he will find things in it to interest him and only a few to provoke him to disagreement. The original audience was an ancient history meeting for London sixth-formers held at Dulwich College; since then versions have been read to other audiences in Britain, including the visiting fellows’ seminar at All Souls College, Oxford (where I enjoyed a term while on research leave from the University of Durham) and the Northumberland and Durham Branch Classical Association (as my presidential address), and to audiences in Germany and Russia (I visited Germany in connection with the Leuchtturm programme of the Ruhr-Universität, Bochum; and Russia with support from the University of Durham and the British Academy), as a result of which a Russian translation has been published in VDI 226 (=1998.3) 16-26. I have not thought it appropriate to change the tone of the paper, or to annotate heavily. 2.

Xen. Hell. 1.4.20; strategos autokrator in Diod.

13.69.3, Plut. Alc. 33.2. Xenophon and Diodorus

are independent of each other, and I know of no one who has doubted the special nature of this appointment. 3.

Dover

(1987).

a

A

4.

(1960)

=

(1988)

159-180.

This

is not undermined

by

Bloedow

(1981),

or Bloedow

|

Piérart (1974); refined by Mitchell (2000). (See also eadem [1997] 96 n. 35).

An assumption made by Wade-Gery (1932) 206 = (1958) 240-241. Compare the view of democratic Athens advanced by Ober (1980). Athens did not have what he would call a “ruling” élite (p. 11).

7.

See especially Connor (1971)

. 9. 10.

See Lewis (1992) 417, Finley (1983) 76(-84). See Rhodes (1972) 4, 57 n. 3. Gomme in Gomme et αἱ. (1945-81) I. 718, 721, dates the debate on Mytilene to the Athenian year 427/6 and the battle at Amphipolis to 422/1; both possibilities for Kleon’s year in the council are discussed by Atkinson (1992) 57-58, who like me prefers 427/6. Cf. Rhodes (1978). On political leaders and their followers my views differ, I think in emphasis rather than fundamentally, from those expressed by Hansen (1983) 220-222; cf. idem (1987) 7286; idem (1991) 280-287: see Rhodes (1986) 139; idem (1994) 93-94,

11.

WHO RAN DEMOCRATIC ATHENS?

477

12.

Bourniot (1976); Roussel (1976); cf. Lambert (1993) 59-77. Their views are rejected by Ito (1997) - in Japanese, with a short English summary.

13.

Millett (1989) argues that democratic Athens deliberately minimised the scope for patronage: I accept that it attempted to do this, but do not believe that the possibilities of patronage were eliminated.

14.

Better than texts which make this an offer to all the citizens: see Rhodes (1981) ad loc.

15.

Prizes: e.g. 16 IP 1629 = Tod, GHI 200 (trans. Harding 121) 190-204. Thuc. 6.31.3, in connection with the Sicilian expedition, writes in general terms of each trierarch’s determination that his ship should be the best, [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 42.2-5 gives an account of the system: see Rhodes (1981) ad toe.

16. 11.

[Arıst.] Ath Andrewes

Pol. 53.7. For earlier practice see ibidem 26.1 with Rhodes

(1981) ad loc. and

(1981).

18.

Nikias was older than Sokrates (PI. Lach, 186C), so born before 469 (Davies [1971] 404); Alkibiades is first attested as a hoplite in 433/2 or 432/1 (Pl. Symp. 219E-220E, Chrm. 153A-B) and as a general in 420/19 (Plut. Ak. 15.1), so he was born not later than 452/1 or 451/0 but probably not much earlier than that (Andrewes, in Gomme er al. [1945-81] IV. 48-49; Davies [1971] 18; and on the chronology of 432 Ste, Croix [1972] 319-320).

19.

However, he is not attested at all except in Prae, ger. reip. and the fragment which it quotes. For another such agent see [Dem.} 59.43: Stephanos was “one of those who shout beside the platform, who make prosecutions and denunciations for pay, and who are written on to other men's motions”.

20.

Broneer (1938); cf. Lang (1990)

21.

Cf. Rhodes (1994) 93-94.

22.

In my contribution to a book edited by E.M Harris & L. Rubinstein I shall demonstrate that this, which is currently regarded as regular practice, did indeed happen sometimes but not regularly. Cf. Mitchell (n. 4, above).

23.

142-161.

25.

E.g. West (1924). E.g. Bury & Meiggs (1975) 294. Kagan (1981) 170-171 is not far from this.

26.

Hansen (1984) = idem (1989) 93-125 with addenda 126-127.

24.

The Authenticity of Andokides’ De Pace. A Subversive Essay

EDWARD M. HARRIS

Two qualities I have always admired in the work of Mogens Hansen are his willingness to question old assumptions and his thoroughness in collecting evidence. These two qualities are nowhere more conspicuous than in an article modestly titled “Two Notes on Demosthenes’ Symbouleutic Speeches”.! In the second of these two notes Hansen examined the view “often stated, but

never

substantiated

that

Demosthenes

virtually

initiated

the

custom

of

publishing speeches delivered in the assembly”.? Hansen observed that at most

19 out of the 150 preserved speeches of the Attic orators were delivered in the assembly. These include Lysias 28 and 34, Andokides’ De Reditu and De Pace, Demosthenes

1-10 & 13-17. Three of these, Hansen pointed out, are not true

demegoriat, that is, symbouleutic speeches: Lysias 28 was delivered during an eisangelia and thus falls into the category of forensic oratory; Lysias 34 is most

likely a political pamphlet; Dionysios says that it was never delivered; and Andokides’ De Reditu is strictly speaking a petition, not a symbouleutic speech. With

characteristic

thoroughness

Hansen

then

searched

through

the

testimonia and fragments of the lost orations for evidence of other symbouleutic speeches. He found very little: there is slender evidence for one symbouleutic speech by Andokides, two by Hypereides, and one that was attributed by

some to Deinarchos and by others to Demosthenes. This led Hansen to modify the traditional view that Demosthenes was the first to publish symbouleutic speeches delivered in the Assembly. “It seems more correct”, he concluded,

“to say that Demosthenes was exceptional in publishing several of the speeches he delivered in the assembly”.

The only apparent exception to the traditional view was the speech De Pace attributed to Andokides. There is no other extant symbouleutic speech that was

published

before

Demosthenes;

there

are

two

brief references

to

a

symbouleutic speech by Andokides, but these come from late sources and give no indication where the speech was delivered. It is odd that Hansen did not examine this one firm exception more closely since Harpokration doubted the authenticity of the De Pace and Dionysios declared it spurious.’

480

EDWARD

M. HARRIS

Recent scholars have not chosen to follow their ancient counterparts and have accepted the speech as an authentic work of Andokides. The main reason for rejecting the doubts

of Harpokration

and Dionysios

is their belief that

Aischines “copied” a lengthy section of the De Pace (3-9) in his De Fala Legatione (2.173-176) delivered in 343/2, almost half a century later. In this essay I will try to follow Hansen’s example and will re-examine the

authenticity of the De Pace. The topic is an important one not only because the De Pace is the only extant example of a symbouleutic speech that was published before Demosthenes. Equally important, the speech contains several pieces of evidence not found in our other sources for the history of Classical Athens.‘ R. Thomas has also used the speech to support her views about the existence

of family traditions of Athenian history and the reliability of the orators as historical sources.’ More recently, A. Missiou has argued that Andokides was

an oligarch, and the De Pace is an example of his “subversive” oratory.° This essay contains four parts. The first will compare the accounts of fifth century Athenian history found in Aischines’ De Falsa Legatione and in the De

Pace to determine the relationship between them. The second will examine the term πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορες and its use in the Classical period and in the De Pace. The third will begin with a few general remarks about the reliability of

the historical evidence found in the orators and study several of the statements about recent history found in the De Pace. The fourth and final part will look at the statements made in the De Pace about the contemporary situation and

compare them with other sources for the period.

One of the main reasons why scholars have considered the De Pace genuine is their belief that Aischines copied its account of fifth-century history in his De

Falsa Legatione delivered in 343, almost fifty years after the alleged date of the speech.’ Though similar on many points, Aischines’ account is neither a verbatim copy nor a close paraphrase of the De Pace. In fact, there are significant

differences in several details between the two works. What is most striking 15 that the passage in the De Pace contains not fewer, but more errors about fifth-

century history than Aischines. If the speech were genuine, we would expect the opposite. It is thus more likely that the De Pace is a forgery whose author adapted information found in Aischines’ De Falsa Legatione, Herodotos, and Thucydides but, in his attempt to adapt this information to a new context, committed several historical blunders. These blunders are the sort of mistakes

THE AUTHENTICITY OF ANDOKIDES’ DE PACE

481

that could only have been made by someone writing after the Classical period.

We need to examine carefully each sentence in the respective passages. Aeschin. 2.172 “After being completely stirred up by certain people and plunged into war with

the Spartans, then after inflicting and suffering much harm, we made a fiftyyear peace treaty, when Miltiades, the son of Kimon, who was a proxenos of the

Spartans, had negotiated with the Spartans; we kept this peace for thirteen years”. συνταραχθέντες δὲ ὑπό τινων, καὶ καταστάντες πρὸς Λακεδαιμονίους εἰς πόλεμον,

πολλὰ

καὶ

παθόντες

ῥυκευσαμένου

πρὸς

κακὰ

καὶ

ποιήσαντες,

Λακεδαιμονίους,

ὄντος

Milriddov προξένου

τοῦ Κίμωνος

σπονδὰς

mpoxn-

πεντηκονταετεῖς

ἐποιησάμεθα, ἐχρησάμεθα δὲ ἔτη τριακαίδεκα

Andoc. 3.3-4 “When we were at war in Euboia and held Megara, Pegai, and Troizen, we

desired peace

and

allowed

Miltiades,

the son of Kimon,

who

had

been

ostracized and was living in the Chersonese, to return since he was a proxenos

of the Spartans, so that we could send him to Sparta to make a truce for a treaty. And then we concluded a peace treaty with the Spartans for fifty years; both sides abided by this treaty for thirteen years”. ἡνίκα τοίνυν ἦν μὲν ὁ πόλεμος ἡμῖν ἐν Εὐβοίᾳ, Μέγαρα δὲ εἴχομεν καὶ Πηγὰς καὶ Τροζῆνα, εἰρήνης ἐπεθυμήσαμεν, καὶ Milrıdönv τὸν Κίμωνος ὠστρακισμένον καὶ ὄντα ἐν Χερρονήσῳ κατεδεξάμεθα δι᾽ αὐτὸ τοῦτο, πρόξενον ὄντα Λακεδαιμονίων, ὅπως πέμψαιμεν εἰς Λακεδαίμονα προκηρυκευσόμενον περὶ σπονδῶν. καὶ τότε ἡμῖν εἰρήνη ἐγένετο πρὸς Λακεδαιμονίους ἔτη πεντήκοντα (πέντε) καὶ ἐνεμείναμεν ἀμφότεροι ταύταις ταῖς σπονδαῖς ἔτῃ τριακαίδεκα The two sentences have much in common, but Aischines has clearly not copied the passage from the De Pace. Both state that the Athenians concluded a fifty-

year peace with the Spartans, which was negotiated by Miltiades, the son of Kimon, who was the proxenos of the Spartans at Athens and that the peace lasted for only thirteen years. Both sentences contain several errors. Thucy-

dides (1.112.1) tells us that the Athenians concluded a five-year truce with the Spartans

around 451; the truce lasted until the invasion of Artika by Plei-

stoanax in 447 (Thuc. 1.114.2), that is, four years, not thirteen.® Theopompos (FGrHist 115) fr. 88 and Plutarch (Cim. 17.8-18; Per. 10.4) say it was Kimon, the son of Miltiades, who concluded the truce, not his father who died shortly

after Marathon (Hdt. 6.136.3).°

482

EDWARD M. HARRIS

But the De Pace adds details not found in Aischines: it says that Miluades was ostracized at the time and was living in the Chersonese. Several sources mention the ostracism of Kimon, but none records an ostracism of his father Miltiades (Plut. Cim. 15.3; 17.3; Per. 9.5). Aischines does not link the truce

with Sparta to any specific period of hostilities with Sparta and vaguely places the responsibility for the war on certain unnamed politicians. The De Pace, on

the other hand, says the truce was concluded during the war in Euboia when the Athenians held Megara, Troizen, and Pegai. The only war in Euboia we

know about in the middle of the fifth century took place in 447-446 when the island revolted from Athens and was reconquered by Perikles (Thuc.

1.114;

Plut. Per. 22-23; Diod. 12.7.22). Athens held Megara and its port Pegai from

461

until its revoit in 447 or 446. The De Pace appears not only to have

jumbled the details about the five-year truce concluded by Kimon, but also to have confused this truce with the Thirty-Years Peace concluded in 446.'° In

other words, the De Pace contains more errors about this period than does Aischines. Aeschin. 2.173

“In this period we fortified the Peiraieus and built the North Wall, constructed one hundred triremes in addition to the existing ones, established an additional

three

hundred

cavalıy,

bought

three

hundred

Skythians,

and

kept

the

democracy secure”. ἐν δὲ τούτῳ τῷ χρόνῳ ἐτειχίσαμεν μὲν τὸν Πειραιᾶ καὶ τὸ βόρειον τεῖχος wxoδομήσαμεν, ἑκατὸν δὲ τριήρεις πρὸς ταῖς ὑπαρχούσαις Evavanynoducba, τριακοσίους 6’ ἱππέας προσκατεσκευασάμεθα, καὶ τριακοσίους Σκύθας ἐπριάμεθα, καὶ τὴν δημοκρατίαν βεβαίως εἴχομεν. Andoc. 3.4-5

“Let us examine this one matter first of all, Athenians. During that peace was there a time when the democracy of the Athenians was overthrown? No one

will show this. I will tell you how many advantages there were as a result of this peace treaty: first, we fortified the Peiraieus during this period, then the north section of the Great Wail. In place of the triremes we had which were old and unseaworthy, the ones with which we had liberated the Greeks by defeating the king and his barbarians

at sea, in place of these ships, we constructed one

hundred triremes. For the first time we established three hundred cavalry and we bought three hundred Skythian archers. From the peace with the Spartans

THE AUTHENTICITY OF ANDOKIDES’ DE PACE

483

these advantages accrued to the city, and the democracy of the Athenians was strong”. ἕν δὴ τοῦτο, ὦ ᾿Αθηναῖοι, πρῶτον σκεψώμεθα. ἐν ταύτῃ τῇ εἰρήνῃ ὁ δῆμος ὁ τῶν ᾿Αθηναίων ἔσθ᾽ ὅπου κατελύθη; οὐδεὶς ἀποδείξει. ἀγαθὰ δὲ ὅσα ἐγένετο διὰ ταύτην τὴν εἰρήνην, ἐγὼ ὑμῖν φράσω. πρῶτον μὲν τὸν Πειραιᾶ ἐτειχίσαμεν ἐν τούτῳ τῷ χρόνῳ, εἶτα τὸ μακρὸν reiyoç τὸ βόρειον. ἀντὶ δὲ τῶν τριήρων ai τότε ἡμῖν ἦσαν παλαιαὶ καὶ ἄπλοι, αἷς βασιλέα καὶ τοὺς βαρβάρους καταναυμαχήσαντες ἠλευθερώσαμεν τοὺς “EAAnvac, ἀντὶ τούτων τῶν νεῶν ἑκατὸν τριήρεις ἐναυπηγησάμεθα, καὶ πρῶτον τότε τριακοσίους ἱππέας κατεστησάμεθα καὶ τοξότας τριακοσίους Σκύθας ἐπριάμεθα [καὶ] ταῦτα ἐκ τῆς εἰρήνης τῆς πρὸς Λακεδαιμονίους ἀγαθὰ τῇ πόλει καὶ δύναμις τῷ δήμῳ τῶν ᾿Αθηναίων ἐγένετο. In the next sentence Aischines lists the benefits the Athenians enjoyed from this peace: the fortification of the Peiraieus, the building of the North Wall, the construction of one hundred additional triremes, the establishment of three

hundred more cavalry, and the acquisition of three hundred Skythians, the public slaves who carried out the orders of Athenian magistrates. The De Pace prefaces these benefits with a brief introduction, then lists the fortification of the Peiraieus, the building of the North Wall in one sentence. sentence

the speech

adds

the

construction

of one

hundred

In the next triremes,

the

establishment of three hundred cavalry, and the acquisition of three hundred Skythians. Both speeches share at least one common error: the Peiraieus was

not fortified in the peace after the war with Sparta in the middle of the fifth century, but shortly after the Persian Wars (Thuc. 1.93.3-8). The information about the North Wall may be slightly inaccurate. Thucydides (1.107.1; 108.3)

places its construction in 457, the last year of the fighting with Aigina and before the peace with Sparta. Plutarch (Ci. 13.8), however, says Kimon used the spoils from the battle of Eurymedon to build the Long Walls, which points

to the 460s." Despite the similarities, it is clear that Aischines has not copied the De Pace,

for the two texts differ significantly in regard to two important details. First, Aischines says that the Athenians added three hundred cavalry; his language implies that these were in addition to the force already in existence. The De

Pace states that the Athenians established a force of three hundred cavalry for the first time (πρῶτον);

its language implies that this was their first cavalry force

and that the Athenians possessed no cavalry before this time. The early history

of the Athenian cavalry is not well documented, but scholars now agree that

the Athenians had cavalry well before the middle of the fifth cennury.'? Second, Aischines says that the Athenians built one hundred triremes in addition

to

(πρός)

those

already

in service;

the De Pace

states

these

one

hundred triremes replaced (ἀντῷ the old unseaworthy triremes, with which the

484

EDWARD M. HARRIS

Athenians had liberated the Greeks in a naval battle against the king and his barbarians. The naval batttle is obviously the Greek victory over the Persians in 480 at Salamis. Aischines’ version is not confirmed by other sources, but is

far more plausible than that found in the De Pace. An increase of one hundred ships over a period of thirteen years is consistent with our information about

ship-building in the fourth century,’’ but the statement in the De Pace is highly implausible. The Athenian triremes that fought at Salamis were built between 483/2 and the Persian invasion in 481 confused

about

the length

and

date

(Ath. Pol. 22.7). The De Pace is very of the peace

with

the Spartans,

but

scholars generally agree that this section of the speech alludes to the treaty of 451, which was concluded thirty years or more after the construction of the

Athenian fleet. There are several problems with the information in the De Pace. To begin with, the triremes that fought at Salamis could no longer have been

in service after 451 since the average life of a trireme was about twenty years, the longest known being twenty-six years.'* Furthermore, Herodotos says the Athenians manned 180 triremes at Salamis; a force of 100 would not have fully replaced this force.'” Finally, Plutarch (Cim. 12.2) dates the change in the trireme’s design to the Eurymedon

440s.'° Once

campaign

in the early 460s, not to the

again, we find that the De Pace contains more

errors than

Aischines. Moreover the errors uncovered in the De Pace are unlikely to have been made by a contemporary writer.

We

must

postpone

our discussion

of the statements

made

about

the

conclusion of the Thirty Years Peace until our analysis of the term πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορες in the next section. Aeschin.

2.174

“We deposited a thousand talents on the Akropolis, constructed another one hundred triremes and built shipsheds. We established a force of 1,200 cavalry and an equal number of archers. The southern section of the Great Wall was

constructed, and no one attempted to overthrow the democracy”. χίλια μὲν γὰρ τάλαντα ἀνηνέγκαμεν νομίσματος εἰς τὴν ἀκρόπολιν, ἑκατὸν δὲ τριήρεις ἑτέρας ἐναυπηγησάμεθα καὶ νεωσοίκους ὠκοδομήσαμεν, χιλίους δὲ καὶ διακοσίους

ἱππέας κατεστήσαμεν

καὶ

τοξότας ἑτέρους

τοσούτους καὶ

τὸ μακρὸν

τεῖγος τὸ νότιον ἐτειχίσθη, καὶ τὸν δῆμον οὐδεὶς ἐνεχείρησε καταλῦσαι. Andoc.

3.7

“First of all in these years, after accepting peace, we deposited one thousand talents on the Akropolis

and sequestered

them by law as a reserve for the

people, built another hundred triremes and voted that these act as a reserve, built shipsheds, established a force of 1,200 cavalry and an equal number of

THE AUTHENTICITY OF ANDOKIDES' DE PACE

485

archers, and the southern section of the Great Wali was constructed. From the peace

with

the

Spartans

these

advantages

accrued

to

the

city,

and

the

democracy of the Athenians was strong”. πρῶτον μὲν ἐν τούτοις τοῖς ἔτεσιν εἰρήνην λαβόντες ἐνηνέγκαμεν χίλια τάλαντα εἰς τὴν ἀκρόποάιν, καὶ νόμῳ κατεκλήσαμεν ἐξαίρετα εἶναι τῷ δήμῳ, τοῦτο δὲ τριήρεις ἄλλας ἑκατὸν ἐναυπηγησάμεθα, καὶ ταύτας ἐξαιρέτους ἐψηφισάμεθα εἶναι, νεωσοίκους

te ῳκοδομησάμεθα,

χιλίους

te καὶ

διακοσίους

ἱππέας

καὶ

τοξότας

τοσούτους ἑτέρους κατεστήσαμεν, καὶ τὸ τεῖχος τὸ μακρὸν τὸ νότιον ἐτειχίσθη. ταῦτα ἐκ τῆς εἰρήνης τῆς πρὸς Λακεδαιμονίους ἀγαθὰ τῇ πόλει καὶ δύναμις τῷ δήμῳ τῶν ᾿Αθηναίων ἐγένετο.

The wording of these two passages is closer than in the previous comparisons. Aischines and the De Pace enumerate the following benefits gained during the Thirty Years Peace:

1) 1,000 talents placed in the treasury on the Akropolis,

2) the construction of one hundred new triremes and shipsheds, 3) a force of 1,200 cavalry and an equal number of archers, and 4) the construction of the South Wall. Evidence from Plato (Grg. 455E), Plutarch (Per.

13.7) and an

inscription (IG I’ 436-51.127) appear to date the South or Middle Wall to 443/42

and corroborate

the fourth item. There

is no evidence

enable us to check the veracity of the second item.'’ Thucydides

that would (2.13.3,8)

confirms the first item and part of the third: he reports the Athenians set aside a reserve fund of 1,000 talents and had a force of 1,200 cavalry and horse archers as well as 1,600 archers. The De Pace provides two details not found in Aischines: the law to set aside the 1,000 talents as a reserve fund and the decree to make

the one hundred

new triremes into a reserve. Thucydides

(2.24.2) in part confirms and in part contradicts this information: there was a reserve fund of 1,000 talents and a reserve force of 100 triremes, both only to

be used in emergencies. But neither the reserve fund nor the reserve force were

created until after the outbreak of the Archidamian War.'® I find it unlikely that Aischines “corrected” the De Pace by simply omitting the erroneous additions. It is more likely that the person who composed the De Pace hastily combined information from Aischines and Thucydides without noticing the mistake he created. Aeschin.

2.175

“Once more persuaded to plunge into war because of the Megarians, then after allowing our land to be laid waste and having lost many advantages, we wanted peace and we concluded a treaty through Nikias, the son of Nikeratos. And by

contrast in this period we deposited 7,000 talents on the Akropolis because of this peace, and we possessed not less than 300 triremes, seaworthy and in good

shape; we received more than 1,200 talents in tribute every year; we held the

486

EDWARD M. HARRIS

Chersonese, Naxos, and Euboia; and we sent out the most colonies in that period”. πάλιν δὲ εἰς πόλεμον διῶ Μεγαρέας πεισθέντες καταστῆναι, Kal τὴν χώραν τμηθῆναι (Wolf; mss.: νεμηθῆναι) προέμενοι καὶ πολλῶν ὠγαθῶν στερηθέντες, εἰρήνης ἐδεήθημεν, καὶ ἐποιησάμεθα διὰ Νικίου τοῦ Νικηράτου. καὶ πάλιν ἐν τῷ χρόνῳ τούτῳ ἑπτακισχίλια τάλαντα ἀνηνέγκαμεν εἰς τὴν ἀκρόπολιν διὰ τὴν εἰρήνην ταύτην τριήρεις δ᾽ ἐκτησάμεθα πλωίμους καὶ ἐντελεῖς οὐκ ἐλάττους ἢ τριακοσίους, φόρος & ἡμῖν κατ᾽ ἐνιαυτὸν προσῆει mAgov ἢ χίλια καὶ διακοσία τάλαντα, καὶ Χερρόνησον καὶ Νάξον καὶ Εὔβοιαν εἴχομεν, πλείστας δ᾽ ἀποικίας ἐν τοῖς χρόνοις τούτοις ἀπεστείλαμεν. Andoc.

3.8-9

“Once more at war because of the Megarians, then after allowing our land to be laid waste and having lost many advantages, we again made peace, the one which Nikias the son of Nikeratos brought about. I think that all of you know

this, that because of this peace we deposited 7,000 talents on the Akropolis; we possessed more than four hundred triremes; more than 1,200 talents in tribute came in every year; and we held the Chersonese, Naxos, and more than two thirds of Euboia.

It would

take a long speech

to tell about

the additional

colonies (we founded) one by one”. πάλιν δὲ διὰ Μεγαρέας πολεμήσαντες καὶ τὴν χώραν τμηθῆναι προέμενοι, πολλῶν ἀγαθῶν στερηθέντες αὖθις τὴν εἰρήνην ἐποιησάμεθα, ἣν ἡμῖν Mixraç ὁ Νικηράτον κατηργάσατο. οἶμαι δ᾽ ὑμᾶς ἅπαντας εἰδέναι τοῦτο, ὅτι did ταύτην τὴν εἰρήνην ἑπτακισχίλια μὲν

τάλαντα νομίσματος

εἰς τὴν ἀκρόπολιν avnveyKapev,

ναῦς δὲ

πλείους ἢ τετρακοσίας ἐκτησάμεθα, καὶ φόρος προσήει κατ᾽ ἐνιαυτὸν πλέον ἢ διακόσια καὶ χίλια τάλαντα, καὶ Χερρόνησόν te εἴχομεν καὶ Νάξον καὶ Εὐβοίας πλέον ἢ τὰ δυό μέρη. τάς τε ἄλλας ἐποικίας καθ᾽ ἕκαστον διηγεῖσθαι μακρὸς ἂν εἴη λόγος. : The two passages cover the Archidamian War (431-421) and the Peace of Nikias (421-415) and contain many similar items: 1) outbreak of war over Megara, 2) the devastation of Attika by the Spartans, 3) peace treaty concluded by Nikias, 4) the accumulation of 7,000 talents, 5) the growth of the fleet, 6) yearly tribute of over 1,200 talents, 7) control of the Chersonese, Naxos, and

Euboia, and 8) the foundation of numerous colonies. Thucydides and other sources confirm items 1, 2, 3, and 6.!° The last item is hopelessly inaccurate: none of the colonies sent out during the Athenian empire (with the sole of ex-

ception of one to Melos in 416 [Thuc. 5.116.4]) can be placed in this period.” Two details are different: Aischines puts the number of triremes at 300 while the De Pace puts it at over 400, and Aischines says that the Athenians held Euboia during this period while the De Pace states that the Athenians held over two thirds of the island. None of our sources indicates how many triremes the

THE AUTHENTICITY

OF ANDOKIDES’

DE PACE

487

Athenians had during the Peace of Nikias, but Aischines’ figure for the period is close to the three hundred given by Thucydides (2.13.8), Aristophanes (Ach.

545) and Xenophon (An. 7.1.27) for the beginning of the Archidamian war. Furthermore,

it is unlikely

that

Aischines

was

copying

the

De

Pace

and

“improving” upon it. If Aischines was adapting the passage in the De Pace and

stressing the benefits of peace, he would have increased the figure found in Andokides, not decreased it.

Contemporary sources prove that Aischines is correct in stating that the Athenians held all of Euboia during the peace of Nikias, not just “over two thirds” as the De Pace asserts. Thucydides reports that Perikles recovered all of Euboia

after its revolt in 447/6

(Thuc.

1.114.3:

καὶ

᾿Αθηναῖοι

πάλιν ἐς

Εὔβοιαν διαβάντες Περικλέους στρατηγοῦντος κατεστρέψαντο πάσαν). When the island broke away from the Athenian Empire

for good in 411, Thucydides

(8.95.7) says that the entire island revolted except for Oreos. He thereby clearly implies that the Athenians previously controlled the entire island. The

Assessment List of 425 reflects Athenian control over all of Euboia in this period (IG I’ 71): the list includes the cities of Karystos (1. 70) and Styra (1. 74) on the southern part of the island, Chalkis (1. 71), Eretria (1. 67) and the

Diakrians (1. 79, ll, 83-84, 92-93) from the center of the island, and Dion (1.

78) and Athenai Diades on the northern part.”! Once again, the De Pace contains an error not found in Aischines. Contrary to the view of recent scholars, Aischines clearly did not copy the De Pace. Our comparison of the passages about the Athenian Empire in the

two speeches reveals that the De Pace makes more mistakes about the period than does Aischines’ account, a sure sign that the former is a forgery composed

sometime after the latter.””

u The

next topic to examine

is the use of the term

πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορες

(“ambassadors with full powers”) in the De Pace. Aischines (2.174) says that sometime

after

Andokides

and

war

broke

his fellow

out

with

the

ambassadors

Aiginetans,

to Sparta

the

to put

Athenians

an end

sent

to the

hostilities. As a result, the Athenians enjoyed peace for thirty years. The De Pace reproduces this information, albeit in an expanded form, adding several details

not

found

in Aischines.

The

De

Pace

identifies

the

ambassador

Andokides as the grandfather of the speaker, puts the number of ambassadors at ten, and says they were sent with full powers (πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορες). The De Pace also employs the term in three other places (33, 34, 39).

488

EDWARD M. HARRIS As a rule, Greek polets in the Classical period sent ambassadors with full

powers in only two specific situations.”* In the first, a polis under siege or threatened with overwhelming force sent ambassadors with full powers receive

terms

of surrender.

The

earliest example

where

we

find

to

πρέσβεις

αὐτοκράτορες used in this kind of situation occurred after the battle of Himera (Diod. 11.24.3-4). The Carthaginians, having suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of Gelon, were afraid the victorious general would sail to Africa and

besiege their city. To avoid an attack, they sent ambassadors with full powers to negotiate with Gelon.

When

they met

Gelon

and begged

for peace, he

granted their request but imposed an indemnity of 2,000 talents of silver to pay for his expenses in the war. He also ordered them to build two temples in which copies of the treaty were to be placed (Diod. 11.25.2-3). The next such use of πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορες occurred in 404 during the siege

of Athens by the Spartans and their allies (Xen. Hell. 2.2.16-23). After the siege had dragged on for several months, and many Athenians had died of starvation, Theramenes was elected ambassador with full powers along with

nine others (ἠρέθη πρεσβευτὴς εἰς Λακεδαίμονα avroxpad twp δέκατος αὐτός), After they arrived in Sparta, the ephors called a meeting of the Spartans and their allies. The Spartans rejected the Theban proposal to sel! the Athenians into slavery, but imposed the following conditions: the Athenians must tear down the walls around the city and the Peiraieus, surrender all their warships except twelve,

recall

their

exiles,

become

allies

of Sparta,

and

submit

to

their

leadership on land and sea (2.2.20). Theramenes and his colleagues reported these terms to the Athenians, who voted over weak opposition to accept them

(21-22). The people of Olynthos found themselves in a similar situation in 379: the Spartan King Agesipolis had destroyed their crops and cut off their supply of imports by seizing the port of Torone

(Xen.

Hell. 5.3.18) The Olynthians,

faced with the prospect of starvation, sent ambassadors ambassadors

came with full powers

to Sparta. These

(ἐλθόντες πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορες), made

peace on terms dictated by the Spartans, then swore the oaths to the treaty on behalf of their city before returning home

(Xen. Hell. 5.3.26). In 334/3 the

people of Aspendos, faced with the imminent arrival of the Makedonian army, sent ambassadors with full powers to Alexander to surrender their city to him

and to ask that he not force them to accept a garrison (Arr. Anab. 1.26.2). Alexander granted their request, but insisted they provide him with fifty talents for soldiers’ pay and send him the horses they used to raise as tribute for the King of Persia. Once the ambassadors agreed to these terms, they returned home. Further on his account of Alexander’s conquests Arrian (6.14) relates how

in 326/5

the Oxydranai

also sent their most prominent

men

as αὐτο-

THE AUTHENTICITY OF ANDOKIDES' DE PACE

489

κράτορες to offer Alexander the surrender of their tribe (ἐνδιδόντες).25 They desired freedom but said they would accept a satrap, pay him tribute and turn

over as many hostages as he might demand. Alexander asked for 1,000 of their leaders to serve either as hostages or to fight with him and appointed Philip as

their satrap. The Oxydranai obeyed his commands and sent 1,000 men and 500 cavalry Alexander had not asked for. The Oxydranai were not a Greek polts so this incident is not directly relevant.

But Arman

(or his source

for the

incident) clearly assumed that a community would have sent this kind of ambassador to a ruler who was in a superior position and able to dictate terms. The final example of this use of πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορες comes from the year 322

after Antipater’s

victory

at Krannon

and

the

collapse

of the

Greek

coalition against Makedonia (Plut. Phoc. 26-28). The Athenians, isolated and

confronted with the threat of invasion, voted on the proposal of Demades to send ambassadors with full powers to negotiate with Antipater (Plut. Phoc.

26.3: ἐκπέμπειν πρὸς ᾿Αντίπατρον ὑπὲρ εἰρήνης πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορες). Phokion and several others were elected to this embassy and went to Thebes, where

they negouated with Antipater (Plut. Phoc. 26.5-7). The Makedonian general insisted on dictating the terms of the peace, but acceded to Phokion’s request not to enter Attika (26). When Phokion reported to the Athenian Assembly,

the Athenians voted to accept Antipater’s conditions “under compulsion” (27.1: bx’ ἀνάγκης). Phokion thereupon returned to Thebes and received Anti-

pater’s demands: the surrender of Demosthenes and Hypereides, restriction of citizenship to those above a certain property qualification, the imposition of a

garrison, and payment of Makedonian expenses for the war as well as a penalty (Plut. Phoc. 27.1-5). The

Athenians

carried out all his orders (Plut. Phoc.

28.1). On a lighter note, we find Aristophanes using the term in two of his comedies in precisely the same kind of situation. In the Lysistrata, the women of Athens decide to seize the Akropolis, go on a sex-strike, and convince the

women of Sparta to follow their example. When the men of Athens and Sparta can hold out no longer, the Athenian Proboulos urges the Spartans to send

ambassadors with full powers to the women and promises to urge the Council of Athens to do likewise (1009-1012: ἀλλ᾽ ὡς τάχιστα φράζε περὶ διαλλαγῶν / αὐτοκράτορας πρέσβεις ἀποπέμπειν ἐνθαδί. / ἐγὼ δ᾽ ἑτέρους ἐνθένδε τῇ βουλῇ

φράσω / πρέσβεις ἐλέσθαι). After these ambassadors approach Lysistrata, the leader of the women,

she dictates terms, which they accept without debate

(1072-1188). In the Aves, Peisthetairos organizes the birds into an army and deprives the

gods on Olympos of their sacrifices to force them to surrender their power, Prometheus sneaks away from Olympos to tell Peisthetairos his plan is

490

EDWARD

M. HARRIS

succeeding: the gods are starving (1514-1524) and are sending ambassadors to negotiate a truce (1532-1533). Prometheus advises Peisthetairos to impose tough

conditions

Herakles,

and

annnounces

and

departs

a Triballian

(1534-1551).

god

they have come

In the next

scene,

arrive in Cloudcuckooland,

and

Poseidon, Poseidon

from the gods to negotiate an end to the war

(1587-1588). Poseidon confesses that the gods are gaining nothing by the war

and promises to turn over rain-water to make puddles and to provide clear weather for the birds. To demands,

assure them

they have the power to grant these

he informs Peisthetairos they have come with full powers

(1591-

1595: αὐτοκράτορες ἥκομεν). Peisthetairos makes several large demands, to which

Poseidon

initially objects.

When

the other two

divine

ambassadors

outvote him, Poseidon reluctantly yields, and they agree to Peisthetairos’ terms (1596-1685). In each case, the party that sends ambassadors with full powers is threatened with starvation (from lack of sex or lack of food) and forced to agree to harsh terms, which they are in no position to reject. In the other type of situation, a polis sends ambassadors with full powers to

negotiate about the details of (or take the oaths for) a treaty that has already been ratified. The earliest example of this use of πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορες occurs

in the year 420 and is reported by Thucydides (5.44.2-46.3).%* In the previous year, the Athenians had concluded the Peace of Nikias with Sparta and her allies (Thuc. 5.18). The following year the Spartans grew alarmed at Athenian negotiations with Argos and sent an embassy to Athens

to propose

surren-

dering Panakton in exchange for Pylos and to defend their alliance with the Boiotians. When they reported to the Council at Athens, they stated that they

had full powers to negotiate about all disputes (5.45.1: αὐτοκράτορες ἥκουσι περὶ πάντων ξυμβῆναι tov διαφόρων). Alkibiades then asked them to deny that they came with full powers when they addressed the Assembly. When followed his advice, Alkibiades

double-crossed

saying one thing to the Council,

them

and

accused

another to the Assembly.

they

them

This made

of the

Athenians so angry that they were ready to conclude an alliance with Argos on

the spot. On the next day Nikias was able to calm down the Assembly and persuade

the Athenians

to send

an embassy

to Sparta

to negotiate

about

Panakton, Amphipolis, and the Boiotian alliance, topics that would have been dealt with had Alkibiades not interfered and derailed the negotiations (Thuc.

5.46.2).2

Despite

Alkibiades’

ruse, the narrative

makes

it clear that the

ambassadors had come with the power to negotiate about issues (διαφορῶν) that had arisen about the terms of the treaty concluded in the previous year.

They were not empowered to conclude an alliance or a new treaty. The next example of this use of πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορες comes from the year

369/8 and is reported by Xenophon (Hell. 7.1.1). During the Theban invasion

THE AUTHENTICITY OF ANDOKIDES’

DE PACE

491

of the Peloponnese

the previous year, the Spartans and their allies sent an

embassy to Athens

to ask for help

(Xen. Hell. 6.5.49). After debate in the

Assembly, the Athenians voted to send help to the Spartans (Xen. Hell. 6.5.49:

ἐψηφίσαντο δὲ βοηθεῖν πανδημεῶ. The next year the Spartans and their allies sent another embassy to Athens, this one with full powers to negotiate about the terms

of the alliance

(7.1.1:

βουλευσόμενοι

καθ᾽ 5 τι ἡ συμμαχία

Aaxe-

δαιμονίοις καὶ ᾿Αθηναίοις ἔσοιτο). When Prokles, the ambassador from Phleious, addressed

the Assembly,

he observed

that the Athenians

had

already

concluded an alliance with the Spartans (7.1.2: ἀγαθὸν ὑμῖν ἔδοξεν εἶναι Aaxeδαιμονίους φίλους roveioBar).”* The topic that lay before them was not whether to conclude an alliance but how to make the alliance last as long as possible (ὅπως

ἡ φιλία

agreement

ὅτι πλεῖστον

χρόνον

on other matters,

συμμενεῖ).

it remained

Since

only

there

to discuss

was

already

an

the question

of

leadership (τὰ μὲν οὖν ἄλλα σχεδόν τι συνωμολόγηται, περὶ δὲ τῆς ἡγεμονίας νῦν ἡ σκέψις). After the debate ended, the Athenians voted only about this one issue (7.1.14:

οἱ ᾿Αθηναῖοι

μετεπείσθησαν, καὶ ἐψηφίσαντο

κατὰ πενθήμερον

ἑκατέρους ἡγεῖσθαι).᾽" The next two examples come from the year 346 during the negotiations for

the Peace of Philokrates. Aischines (3.63) recounts in his speech against Ktesiphon in 330 that the negotiations for the treaty began when Philokrates passed

a decree calling for the election of ten ambassadors to journey to the court of King Philip and to ask him to send ambassadors with full powers to Athens in regard to peace (κελεύει ἐλέσδαι δέκα πρέσβεις οἵτινες ἀφικόμενοι ὡς Φίλιππον ἀξιώσουσιν αὐτὸν δεῦρο πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορας πέμπειν ὑπὲρ εἰρήνης). Aischines does not say in either of his speeches about the Peace of Philokrates whether the ambassadors Philip sent to Athens came with full powers or not; in all the passages where

Aischines

and Demosthenes

refer to the Makedonian

am-

bassadors who came to Athens, they never call them πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορες. But if they did come with full powers, they would have fit into the category of ambassadors Aischines

who

came

to take the oaths for a treaty. In an earlier speech

(2.20-46) describes how the Athenian ambassadors went to Ma-

kedonia, negotiated with Philip, and returned to Athens with the King’s proposal for a peace treaty. The Assembly debated the king’s proposal on Elaphebolion 18 and ratified it on Elaphebolion 19 (for the dates see Aeschin. 2.61). At its next meeting on Elaphebolion 25 the Assembly voted to have the representatives of their allies swear the oaths for the treaty to the ambassadors who

had

come

from

Philip

(Aeschin.

3.74:

ἀποδοῦναι

δὲ τοὺς ὄρκους

τοῖς

πρέσβεσι τοῖς παρὰ Φιλίππου). These ambassadors did not negotiate the treaty with the Athenians. The negotiations had already taken place in Makedonia, and Philip had written his proposals down in a letter that was read out to the

492

EDWARD M. HARRIS

Council and Assembly (Aeschin. 2.45, 50). When the Assembly met on Elaphebolion

18, it debated

Makedonian

whether or not to accept Philip’s proposals. The

ambassadors came not to negotiate, but only to take the oaths

from the Athenian and their allies.” After the treaty was ratified, the Athenians re-elected the same ambassadors and instructed them to return to Makedonia and take the oaths for the treaty from

Philip

and

his allies (Aeschin.

Aischines’ trial in 343, Demosthenes

2.91).

In his speech

(19.173)

as prosecutor at

claimed that he was sent as

ambassador with full powers to arrange for the ransoming of the Athenians captured

in the war with

Philip

(αὐτοκράτωρ

ἦν ἐγὼ κατὰ τὴν πρεσβείαν).

Demosthenes may possibly exaggerate by implying that he was the only one who possessed full powers; it is more likely that the all the members

of the

embassy were granted full powers since their mission included only taking the

oaths from Philip and his allies and negotiating about the prisoners of war. Aischines (2.100) ridicules Demosthenes’ story, but the significant point for us is that Demosthenes’ use of the term is consistent with the other examples in this category: he was sent with full powers to negotiate only about this one item

in the treaty that had recently been ratified.*! The account

term

πρέσβεις

αὐτοκράτορες

is also

found

in Diodorus’

very

of the negotiations that led to the Peace of Kallias in 449

brief (Diod.

12.4.4-6). After the Persian defeat on Cyprus, King Artaxerxes conferred with

his companions and decided to make peace with the Greeks. He therefore wrote to his generals on Cyprus and his satraps, instructing them on what terms they could make peace with the Greeks. Those under Artabazos and Megabyzos accordingly sent ambassadors to discuss a settlement. The Athen-

ians accepted their proposals (ὑπακουσάντων) and sent ambassadors with full powers (πεμψάντων πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορας) led by Kallias, the son of Hipponikos. These negotiations resulted in an agreement about peace, which con-

tained several specific items such as guarantees of freedom for the Greeks in Asia, limits on the movement of the Persian fleet, et aa. Although Diodorus’ narrative is brief to the point of obscurity, this example of the use of πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορες appears to fit the second category we have analyzed. The satraps,

acting on the orders of Artaxerxes, sent ambassadors to make peace with the Greeks, which the Athenians accepted. This would appear to mean that they

voted to make peace with Persia, then sent ambassadors with full powers to work out the detailed terms of the treaty listed by Diodorus. These negotiations were thus similar to those carried out between Athens and Sparta in

370 and 369: in both cases, a treaty was first negotiated by ambassadors without special powers and ratified by the Assembly, then ambassadors with

THE AUTHENTICITY

OF ANDOKIDES’

full powers were sent by one side to hammer

DE PACE

493

out the precise terms of the

agreement. In two other passages we find the term τέλος ἔχοντες applied to ambassadors with apparently the same meaning as αὐτοκράτορες. Both of these examples

conform to the second pattern we have noted above. The first example comes from an inscription dated to 423 (16 I’ 61). The inscription records a decree

from a previous year in which the Athenian Assembly voted to send three ambassadors

to their ally Perdikkas

and

ask him

to allow

the people

of

Methone freedom of movement by land and by sea. If Perdikkas and the people of Methone did not come to an agreement, the Assembly invited them to send ambassadors

with full powers

([npeoBefjav ékétieploli] πεμπόντον (.)

τέλος [Exovitac] περὶ ho[v] ἂν διαφῴρονται) to Athens to present their respective cases to the Council and Assembly. Athens had already concluded alliances with Perdikkas and Methone

(Thuc.

1.57.2; 61.3). It is clear from the in-

formation contained in the decree that both Perdikkas and Methone were allies of Athens at the time. This example therefore conforms to the second type of situation where πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορες are used. The second example comes again from the year 423 and is found in the truce concluded that year between Athens and Sparta and reported by Thucydides (4.117-119). The treaty contains several clauses on various subjects including

territory,

heralds

and

embassies,

deserters,

and

arbitration

of

disputes. At the end of the treaty (Thuc. 4.118.9-10) there is a clause inviting

the Athenians to come to Sparta if they have specific proposals that seem better or more just (εἰ δέ τι ὑμῖν εἴτε κάλλιον εἴτε δικαιότερον τούτων δοκεῖ εἶναι). If the Athenians wish to make such proposals, they should send men with full powers

(oi δὲ ἰόντες τέλος ἔχοντες lévruv).*? As in the previous examples, those with full powers are sent not to negotiate a treaty, but to deal with specific provisions

contained in a treaty already in effect. It is hard to know whether the authors who wrote after the Classical period (Arrian, Plutarch, and Diodorus) used the term correctly or not. Later writers often did not understand the institutions of the early Greek polis and were capable of interpreting politics in the Classical period in anachronistic terms.

What is striking, however, is that all the authors writing in the Classical period (Demosthenes, Aischines, Thucydides, Xenophon, Lysias, Aristophanes) use

the term in only two specific situations and no other: either when a pois is facing imminent defeat and is willing to surrender or when a polis wishes to negotiate with another pols about individual items in a treaty that has already been concluded.

The fact that the Greek polets sent ambassadors with full powers in only these two specific situations should come as no surprise to a scholar like M.H.

494

EDWARD

M. HARRIS

Hansen, who has studied the institutions of the polis. In the polis all major

decisions about foreign policy were made in the Assembly.’ Even in Sparta and in Athens under the moderate Constitution of 411, where the Council had

a more prominent role, the Assembly had the right to declare war, make peace, and to ratify treaties.** The Assembly tended to delegate power to a magistrate

or board of officials only to perform limited and specific tasks.” The only exception

to this general rule occurred

in emergency

situations where

it

became necessary to grant a magistrate or board of officials extensive powers to deal with an immediate

cnsis. One

thinks of the powers granted by the

Syracusans to a triumvirate of generals with full powers after their repeated defeats by the Athenians in 415 (Thuc. 6.72.4-73.1) or the Athenian decision to grant the Areopagos extensive judicial powers after the disaster at Chaironei-

a (Din. Dem. 62, 78-83). The use of the term πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορες in the De Pace does not fit into either of the situations described above.

In its account of the Thirty Years

Peace the De Pace (6) states that when the Athenians desired peace, ten am-

bassadors were elected from all the Athenians and were sent with full powers (to negotiate) about peace (ἠρέθησαν δέκα ἄνδρες ἐξ ᾿Αθηναίων ἁπάντων πρέσBeiceic Λακεδαίμονα περὶ εἰρήνης adroxpdropeg). At the time the Athenians were not in a desperate situation. In fact, their control over their allies was not in jeopardy, and they had recently reconquered Euboia (Thuc. 1.114). True, the Spartan king Pleistoanax had led a Peloponnesian army into Attika, and the Athenians had recently lost Boiotia and Megara, but Pleistoanax withdrew after reaching Thria and Eleusis, and the loss of Boiotia and Megara did not place the Athenians in a hopeless predicament. Nor were these ambassadors

sent to negotiate about issues concerning a treaty already in effect. When the ambassadors left for Sparta, a state of war existed between the two powers, and

their mission was to negotiate an end to the hostilities. It is significant that Aischines (2.174), when referring to the same set of ambassadors led by Andokides, does not call them αὐτοκράτορες. Yet again we find that the De Pace contains a serious mistake about fifth century history not present in Aischines. Further on in the De Pace the speaker uses the term πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορες

when referring to his own negotiations with Sparta. He says that he and his fellow ambassadors were sent with full powers to Sparta so they would not

have to refer back to Athens for instructions (33: αὐτοκράτορας yap πεμφθῆναι εἰς Λακεδαίμονα διὰ ταῦθ᾽, ἵνα μὴ πάλιν ἐπαναφέρωμεν).

Despite the fact that

they were sent with full powers, they have decided to grant the Assembly the right to examine

the terms

they have

brought

back

(34:

πεμφθέντες

αὐτο-

κράτορες ἔτι ἀποδώσομεν ὑμῖν περὶ αὐτῶν σκέψασθαι). The rest of the speech clearly indicates that the Athenians were not deliberating about one or two

THE AUTHENTICITY

OF ANDOKIDES’

DE PACE

495

issues concerning a treaty already in existence, but whether to conclude

a

peace treaty or keep on fighting (e.g. 1: εἰρήνην ποιεῖσθαι... ñ πολεμεῖν). The choice was not between different versions of a clause in a treaty, but between peace and war (16-18, 28: δεῖ δυοῖν θάτερον ἐλέσθαι, ἢ πολεμεῖν. ἢ. τὴν εἰρήνην ποιεῖσθαι; 32: νῦν οὖν τοῦτο ὑπολοιπόν ἐστιν ἡμῖν πόλεμον μὲν ἑλέσθαι καὶ νῦν ἀντ᾽ εἰρήνης, 41: τὴν εἰρήνην καὶ τὸν πόλεμον ποιεῖν). Nor were the Athenians in such a desperate situation that they had to accept harsh terms of surrender.

In fact, the speaker contrasts the generous terms offered by the Spartans with those they imposed in 404. The Spartans were offering the Athenians to keep their walls, ships and islands (23). In 404 the Spartans dictated terms of peace (22: σπονδὰς ἐπὶ ῥητοῖς) and forced the Athenians to tear down their walls and

surrender their fleet (39). When

the speaker urges

the Assembly

not to

continue the war, he never argues against war because their military position is hopeless, but because peace brings greater benefits and keeps democracy safe

(2, 10).*° Finally, in all the examples from the Classical period we never encounter a case where both parties send ambassadors with full powers; there is always only one party that sends this kind of ambassador to the other party. In the De Pace (33, 34, 39), however, both the Spartans and the Athenians send ambassadors with full powers. This is without parallel in all our sources. The term πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορες is not the only term the De Pace uses in a

way that is at odds with the other attested uses of the term in the Classical sources.

At

11 the speaker makes

a distinction between

“a treaty” and

“a

peace” (εἱρήνη yap καὶ σπονδαὶ πολὺ διαφέρουσι σφῶν αὐτῶν). This distinction

is completely unknown in contemporary accounts of fifth and fourth century Greek history, where the two terms are often used interchangeably.””’ Both these examples lend further support to the conclusion reached at the end of the first section: the De Pace is a forgery composed by someone who had read the sources for the Classical period but did not understand the diplomatic practices of the time. This indicates that the De Pace, like the Contra Alabiadem, the next speech in the corpus Andocideum, is probably a school exercise

composed in the Hellenistic period. Anthony Grafton has succinctly described the process by which these exercises insinuated themselves into the

canon: “The rhetoric schools trained their pupils to turn out excellent pastiches of earlier writers, especially in the form of private letters, a favorite exercise. These could easily be taken as genuine once they came into circulation. And gradually the demand for texts from this canon -- real works by the individuals s 39 singled out for admiration — outgrew the available supply”.

496

EDWARD M. HARRIS ΠῚ

Besides making several errors about the fifth century up to 416, the De Pace contains some mistakes about events during the twenty years before 391, the

year the speech was allegedly delivered before the Assembly. Scholars have often tried to explain these errors away, arguing they are characteristic of the careless habits of the orators when recalling historical events. It is true that the orators make serious errors about events that occurred fifty years ago or more. Thomas rightly draws attention to the speaker who claims his great-grandfather Aristokrates destroyed Eetionia, where receive the Spartans,

Kritias and his allies were about to

and restored the democracy

(Dem.

58.66-67).

The

speaker is clearly confusing the Revolution of 411 with the Revolution of 404.

But the speaker makes this mistake not about recent events, but about an event sixty or seventy years earlier.

Although the orators often get history muddled, they do not tend to make serious errors about major recent events. Nor could they afford to without

risking their credibility in front of an audience that had lived through these events. Take the example of Aischines’ three different versions of the Peace of Philokrates.

In 346 Aischines

(1.174) boasted that he and Philokrates had

brought about peace with Philip. In 343 Aischines

(2.20-78)

gave a more

extensive account, but tried to dissociate himself from Philokrates who had been condemned

in absentia shortly before the trial. Yet Aischines does not

deny that the Athenians made peace with Philip in 346. He also admits that he

supported peace and alliance with Philip, but claims that he spoke in favor of the treaty only with great reluctance. In 330, Aischines (3.62-81) gave a briefer

version of the events leading up to the Peace of Philokrates. This time he alleges he never advocated peace and alliance with Philip, but supported the Resolution of the Allies, that called for peace without alliance. In each account, Aischines changes certain details about his own

conduct and that of other

individuals, but he does not alter the basic facts: the Athenians concluded a

treaty with Philip in 346 that included both peace and alliance. Nor does he invent embassies that did not take place. When discussing the reliability of the orators, we must therefore make two distinctions, first, between recent events and events in the distant past and, second, between major public events and

the actions of individuals. Orators might shade the truth or lie about the actions of individuals and commit blunders about Athenian history, but they did not fabricate major events in the recent past. In three places the De Pace makes

serious mistakes

about events in the

twenty-five years before 391, the date it was allegedly delivered. At 30 the De

Pace recounts that the Syracusans came to Athens and asked for an alliance.

THE AUTHENTICITY OF ANDOKIDES’ DE PACE

497

Instead of making peace with the Syracusans, the Athenians sided with the people of Egesta and Katane and sent an expedition to Sicily, where they suf-

fered a humiliating defeat. Thucydides (6.6-26) gives a detailed account of the events leading up to the decision to send Sicilian Expedition of 415, yet says nothing about a Syracusan embassy to Athens nor about an offer to conclude

an alliance.*! The De Pace gives the impression that the Athenians were confronted in 415 with a choice between an alliance with Syracuse and one with Egesta and Katane. This goes contrary to the information given by Thucydides

(6.6.2), who reveals that Athens had alliance with Egesta already in the 420s. At 29 the De Pace says that the Athenians decided to support Amorges, the slave of the Great King who had fled his court and was in open revolt. As a result, the Great King grew angry and gave the Spartans 5,000 talents, which enabled them to defeat the Athenians. As Westlake has shown, Thucydides (8.5.5; 25-27) dates Athenian support for Amorges not before, but after the Persian decision to support the Spartans.* What is more telling is that Tissaphernes’

ambassador

does

not give Athenian

support

for Amorges

as the

Persian reason for aiding Sparta (Thuc. 8.5.4-5). Finally Thucydides (2.65.713) attributes Athens’ defeat in the war to several factors, but never lists their support for Amorges as one of them. At 39 the De Pace states that after the Athenians surrendered in 404, the Spartans tore down their walls and took their ships as “security”, apparently

for their good conduct. The Spartans are now offering to return these ships to the Athenians. This is very different from what we find in Xenophon (Hell. 2.2.20. Cf. 2.3.8). According to the historian, the Athenians had to surrender all their ships except for twelve. Nothing is said about the Athenians handing them over as security for their good conduct.* Furthermore, the Athenians did

not need the Spartans to return their old ships to them in 391: two years before Konon had received money from the Persian King and built a new fleet that challenged Spartan control of the Aegean. It is hard to believe that a speaker addressing the Assembly in 391 could

have rewritten events only a few decades old or have invented incidents in the recent past. It is much more likely that a forger composing the speech in the

Hellenistic period rearranged history to score some rhetorical points.

IV So far we have found that the De Pace makes more mistakes about the history of the Athenian

Empire

than Aischines does, uses the term

πρέσβεις αὐτο-

κράτορες in a way that is at odds with the other attested uses of the term in the

498

EDWARD M. HARRIS

Classical period, and invents or distorts events that occurred in the later fifth century. The final section of this essay will examine the information found in

the De Pace about the period during which the speech was allegedly delivered. The speech purports to have been delivered in the Athenian Assembly and discusses recent negotiations to end the Korinthian War. Our sources for the period describe two Korinthian

War,

an unsuccessful

successful, in 387/6, which

came

one

sets of negotiations to end the

in 392

and

to be known

another

one,

this time

as the Peace of Antalkidas.

Xenophon (4.8.12-19) is our only source for the first set of negotiations. These

negotiations began after the Spartans found out that Konon was using money from the Great King to rebuild the walls of Athens and to pay for a fleet to win over the Greeks of the Aegean. In an attempt to cut off his source of funds, the

Spartans sent Antalkidas to the satrap Tiribazos to make peace with the Great King. The Athenians got wind of these negotiations and also sent an embassy

to participate in the negotiations. At the same time, the Athenians informed the Argives and Thebans and invited them to send their own embassies. When

the parties met together, Antalkidas withdrew the Spartan claim to

the Greek cities in Asia and proposed that the Spartans and the Great King

conclude

peace

on the condition

that all the Greek

cities should

enjoy

autonomy. Although Tiribazos found the proposal acceptable, the Athenians, Thebans, and Argives had serious reservations. The Athenians were afraid they

would

lose control over the islands of Lemnos,

Imbros

and Skyros. The

Thebans were concerned the treaty would force them to grant the Boiotian

cities their independence. The Argives thought they would have to reliquish their hold

over

Korinth.

As

a result,

the

negotiations

ended

without

an

agreement, and the war with Sparta continued both in Greece and in Asia. Tiribazos

wished

to support

the Spartans

but was

afraid to do so openly

without the approval of the Great King. For the moment, he secretly gave money to the Spartans and put Konon in prison, then went to the Great King to seek his approval. The Great King apparently did not side with Tiribazos for he sent Strouthas, who favored helping the Athenians, to replace him. What is crucial to note here is that the Great King did not favor peace with Sparta

at this point and did not participate in the negotiations. The next set of negotiations took place in 387/6. That year Antalkidas suc-

ceeded with Persian help in gaining control of the sea and cutting off the supply of grain Athens imported from the Black Sea (Xen. Hell. 5.28). Tiribazos, now back in his satrapy, called the major Greek powers together for a

conference at Sardis and announced the terms of peace that King Artaxerxes had sent down to him. The Great King declared that the Greek cities of Asia

were to be his, while the rest of the Greek cities were to be autonomous with

THE AUTHENTICITY OF ANDOKIDES’ DE PACE

499

the exception of Lemnos, Imbros, and Skyros, which were to belong to Athens. Those who did not accept the peace, the Great King vowed to make war on. The

Greek embassies then departed and reported to their respective cities

(5.1.30-32). Several Greek polets were not enthusiastic about the terms laid down by the Great King. The Thebans demanded that they be allowed to swear the oaths for the treaty on behalf of all the Boiotians.

They

only backed

down

and

granted the Boiotian cities their freedom when Agesilaos mobilized the Spartan army and marched

to Tegea

(5.1.32-33). The

Korinthians did not wish to

expel their Argive garrison, but likewise yielded when Agesilaos threatened to

make war on them (5.1.34). Despite their initial resistance, the Greeks swore to abide by the peace (5.1.35). Before we examine the information in the De Pace, it is necessary to look at one more piece of evidence. In his commentary on Demosthenes’ Philippica (col. 7.11-28),* Didymos

states that the Athenians rejected the peace sent

down by the Great King, dates the rejection to the archonship of Philokles (392/91), and cites Philochoros as his source. He then quotes from Philochoros

(FGrHist 328) fr. 149a: “the King sent down the peace of Antalkidas, which the Athenians did not accept because it was written in it that the Greeks living in Asia were all grouped together in the household of the King. The Athenians

sent the ambassadors who agreed to these terms into exile after they were accused by Kallistratos and did not await their trial”. The ambassadors who

fled Athens were Epikrates of Kephisia, Andokides of Kydathenaion, Kratinos of Sphettos, and Euboulides of Eleusis.

Scholars have now recognized that Didymos, who was famous in antiquity for his carelessness,

misdates

the negotations

described

by Philochoros.”

These negotiations cannot be those of 392 described by Xenophon for several

reasons. First, the proposal to end the war in 392 was made by Tiribazos and did not enjoy the backing of the Great King; the peace described by Philo-

choros was sent down by the Great King himself. Second, Xenophon says the Athenians

rejected the terms because

they were afraid of losing contro] of

Lemnos, Imbros and Skyros; Philochoros says the Athenians rejected the peace

of Antalkidas because it gave the Greeks of Asia to the Great King. Third, Ailios Aristeides in his Panathenaicus

(172) says that the Athenians at first

rejected the Peace of Antalkidas and sent the ambassadors who negotiated it into exile. The scholiast on the passage identifies one of the ambassadors as

Epikrates. The evidence indicates that the peace described by Philochoros must be the Peace of Antalkidas concluded in 387/6.*

This is an important finding since it means there is no evidence for a peace conference at Sparta in 392. Nor is such conference likely to have taken place.

500

EDWARD M. HARRIS

The Spartans were able to compel the Athenians and other Greeks to accept peace in 387/6 because they controlled the Hellespont and enjoyed the backing of the Persian King. But the Spartans did not have these advantages in 392. The Great King had not given Sparta his support, and the Spartans had not yet

gained control of the Hellespont. Since the other Greeks rejected Antalkidas’ proposals at Sardis, there was no reason for them to send ambassadors

to

Sparta in that same year when nothing compelled them to do so. Which set of negotiations does the De Pace appear to refer to, the earlier,

unsuccessful negotiations of 392 or the later, successful negotiations of 387/6? According to the De Pace (14, 39) the Spartans proposed to give the Athenians control over the islands. This seems to fit the negotiations of 387/6 when the

Spartans offered these guarantees, not those of 392 when the Athenians feared the terms Antalkidas proposed in that year would deprive them of control over the islands. Furthermore, the De Pace (20) states that the Boiotians had already

agreed to give Orchomenos

its freedom. This also appears to refer to the

negotiations

the Thebans

of 387/6 when

granted the Boiotians autonomy.

yielded to Spartan demands

and

It cannot refer to the negotiations of 392:

when Antalkidas proposed in 392 that all the Greeks enjoy autonomy, the Thebans

rejected his proposal

because

they did not wish to give up their

control of Boiotia. Finally, the De Pace (27) states the Argives had already

made peace with Sparta when the debate took place in Athens about the treaty. Xenophon tells us that Argives did not make peace with Sparta in 392, whereas they did in 387/6. Once again the speech seems to describe the situation in 387/6, not that in 392. But this conclusion clashes with the date of the speech, which claims to have

been delivered in 391 since the speaker says the Boiotians had been fighting for four years, and the Korinthian War began in 395 (20). Are we to believe that

a speaker in the Assembly would tell his audience that the war they were fighting had gone on for only four years when it had lasted over eight years? The cumulative weight of the evidence makes the verdict on the De Pace

unavoidable: the speech is a forgery composed by a scholar who had read Xenophon,

Thucydides

and Aischines,

but in his attempt to combine

formation from these sources (and, in some

in-

cases, to improve upon them)

made several errors that reveal the speech cannot be genuine. He may have

been the same person who wrote the Contra Alcibiadem, which stands next to the De Pace in the corpus Andoctdeum and which scholars now generally agree

is spurious.”’ Whoever this scoundrel was, he deserves a certain measure of admiration: after all, he was clever enough to fool generations of unsuspecting scholars who accepted the speech as genuine.

THE AUTHENTICITY OF ANDOKIDES’ DE PACE

501

Our conclusion has major consequences. To begin with we can now eliminate the only apparent exception to the rule that no orator before Demosthenes

published symbouleutic speeches delivered in the Assembly. Beyond that, we can now reject all the historical information found in the speech that is not corroborated by other sources. In particular, this means there is no longer any

reason to think the Athenians concluded a Peace of Epilykos with the Persian king in 424. Nor can we use the speech as evidence for the existence and nature of family traditions about Athenian history. Finally, the main piece of evidence for Andokides’ subversive rhetoric has now vanished. But I leave it

for others to explore more fully the implications this essay contains for Athenian history.“

BIBLIOGRAPHY Albini, U. 1964. Andocide. De Pace (Florence). Badian, E. 1991. “The King’s Peace,” in Georgica. Greek Studies in Honour of George Cawkwell, BICS Suppl. 58: 25-48. Badian, E. 1993. From Plataea to Poridaea. Studies in the History and Historiography of the Pentecontaetia (Baltimore & London). Blackman, D. 1969. “The Athenian Navy and Allied Naval Contributions in the Pentekontaetia,” GRBS 10: 179-216. Bosworth, 1980. A Historical Commentary on Aman’s History of Alexander, Vol. I (Oxford). Bruce, LA.F. 1966. “Athenian Embassies in the Early Fourth Century,” Historia 15: 272281. Dilts, M.R. 1997. Aeschinis Orationes (Stuttgart & Leipzig). Dover, K. 1960. “Dekatos autos,” FHS 80: 61-77. Edwards, M.J. 1995. Greek Orators IV. Andocides (Warminster). Edwards, M.J. 1998. Review of Ghiggia (1995), CR 48: 282-283. Ghiggia, P.C. 1995. [Andocide] Contro Alcibiade. Introduzione, testo critico, traduztone e commento, Studi e testi di storia antica 4 (Pisa). Gomme, A.W., & Andrewes, A. & Dover, K.J. 1945-81. A Historical Commentary on Thucydides, 5 Vols. (Oxford). Grafton, A. 1990. Forgers and Crincs. Creativity and Duplicity in Western Scholarship (London). Graham, A.J. 1983. Colony and Mother City in Ancient Greece rev. edn. (Chicago). Hamilton, C.D. 1979. Sparta’s Bitter Victories. Politics and Diplomacy in the Connthian War (Ithaca, New York). Hansen, M.H. 1984. “Two Notes on Demosthenes’ Symbouleutic Speeches,” CiMed 35: 57-70. Hansen, ΜΗ. 1989. The Athenian Ecclesia II. A Collection of Articles (Copenhagen). Harris, E.M. 1990. “The Constitution of the Five Thousand,” HSCP 93: 243-280. Harris, E.M. 1995. Aeschines and Athenian Politics (Oxford & New York). Harris, E.M. 1998. Review of M.J. Edwards, Greek Orators IV. Andocides, CR 48: 18-20. Harris, E.M. 1999. “JG I’ and the So-Called Peace of Epilykos,” ZPE 126: 123-128.

502

EDWARD

M. HARRIS

Herrmann, J. 1990. Kleine Schriften zur Rechtsgeschichte (Munich). Kolbe, W.

1901. “Zur athenischen Marineverwaltung,” AM

26: 377-418.

Lewis, D. 1997. Selected Essays in Greek and Near Eastern History, edited by P.J. Rhodes (Cambridge).

Maidment, K.J. 1941. Minor Aric Orators I. Antiphon, Andocides (Cambridge, MA). Meiggs. R. 1972. The Athenian Empire (Oxford). Missiou-Ladi, A. 1987. “Coercive Diplomacy in Greek Interstate Relations,” CQ 37.2: 336345, Missiou, A. 1992. The Subversive Oratory of Andocides (Cambridge). Mosley, D.J. 1973. Envoys and Diplomacy in Ancient Greece (Wiesbaden). Pearson, L. δὲ Stephens, S. (eds.}. 1983. Didymi in Demosthenem Commentaria (Stuttgart). Rhodes, P.J. 1971. The Athenian Boule (Oxford). Rhodes, P.J. 1981. A Commentary on the Aristotelian Athenaion Politeia (Oxford). Russell, D.A. 1983. Greek Declamarion (Cambridge). Ryder, T.T.B. 1965. Koine Eirene. General Peace and Local Independence in Ancient Greece (London).

Ste. Croix, G.E.M. de. 1962. “The Alleged Secret Pact between Athens and Philip I concerning Amphipolis and Pydna,” CQ 13: 110-120. de Ste Croix, G.E.M. 1972. The Origins of the Peloponnesian War (London). Skoczyolas Pownall, F. 1995. “ Presbeis Autokratores. Andocides’ De Pace,” Phoenix 49: 140-

149. Spence, I. 1993. The Cavairy of Classical Athens. A Social and Military History (Oxford). Stadter, P. 1989. A Commentary on Plutarch’s Pericles (Chapel Hill & London). Thomas, R. 1989. Oral Tradinon and Written Record in Classical Athens (Cambridge). Thompson,

W.E.

Underhill, G.E. Xenophon

1967. “Andocides and Hellanicus,”

1900.

TAPA

98: 483-490.

A Commentary with Introduction and Appendix on the Hellenica of

(Oxford).

Wankel, H. 1987. Review of Pearson & Stephens (1983), Gnomon 59: 213-223. West, S. 1970. “Chalcenteric Negligence,” CQ 20: 288-296, Westlake, H.D.

1977. “Athens and Amorges,” Phoenix 31: 319-329.

NOTES 1.

Hansen (1984) = Hansen (1989) 283-296. Hansen

3.

(1984) 60 = Hansen

(1989) 286.

See Harp. s.v. ᾿Ελληνοταμίαι. ᾿Ανδοκίδης ἐν τῷ Περὶ τῆς εἰρήνης (3.38), εἰ γνήσιος, s.v. νεώρια καὶ νεώσοικοι, μήποτε νεώρια λέγεται ὁ τόπος ἅπας εἰς ὃν ἀνέλκονται αἱ τριήρεις καὶ πάλιν ἐξ αὐτοῦ καθέλκονται ὡς ὑποσημαίνουσι Λυκοῦργός τε ἐν ᾿Απολογισμῷ ὧν πεπολίτευται καὶ ᾿Ανδοκίδης ἐν τῷ Περὶ τῆς εἰρήνης (3.7), εἰ γνήσιος ὁ Adyos: su. Πηγαί. ᾿Ανδυκίδης ἐν τῷ Περὶ τῆς εἰρήνης (3.3).

εἰ γνήσιος. For Dionysios’ opinion see Hypothesis to the De Pace. 4. 5. 6.

Some scholars have argued that JG I° 227 confirms the information found at De Pace 29 about the alleged Peace of Epilykos, but see now Harris (1999). Thomas (1989) 119-123. Missiou (1992). For doubts about Andokides’ oligarchical leanings see Harris (1998).

7.

This belief is at least as old as the scholion on Aeschin. 2.175 (392 Dilts): μετῆκται τὰ πλεῖστα ἐκ

THE AUTHENTICITY

10. 11.

12.

DE PACE

503

τῶν ᾿Ανδοκίδου. Cf. Thompson (1967) 483 n. 1 (“Aeschines was simply paraphrasing Andokides”); Thomas (1989) 119 (“borrowed almost verbatim”) and Edwards (1995) 108 {“Aeschines copying Andokides rather than a later pseudo-Andokides copying Aeschines”). Gomme in Gomme, Andrewes & Dover (1945-81) 325-328 and Badian (1993) 179, 103 place the start of the truce in 451. Dilts (1997) follows Auger and Mitford in emending Μιλτιάδου τοῦ Κίμωνος to τοῦ Κίμωνος τοῦ Μιλτιάδου at Aeschin. 2.172, and Albini (1964) follows Mitford in making a similar emendation at Andoc. 3.3. But the manuscripts of Aischines and Andokides give no variant readings. Given the unanimity of the manuscripts, the tendency of each author to make historical errors, and the agreement berween Aischines and the De Pace, there is no justification for emending either passage. These errors are noted and analyzed by Thomas (1989) 120-122 and Edwards (1995) 194-195, but neither observes that the De Pace makes more errors than Aischines. For discussion and references to previous scholarship see Gomme (1945-81) I: 311-312 and Stadter (1989) 171. For sources and discussion see Rhodes (1981) 303 and more extensively Spence (1993) 9-15. Edwards (1995)

13.

OF ANDOKIDES’

195 notices the differences berween the two speeches on this topic but does not

analyze them. IG TE 1611.9 gives a total of 283 triremes in 357/6, and IG IT? 1613.302, 349 ships in 353/2, that is, an increase of 66 in four years. Diodorus (11.43.3) says Themistokles persuaded the Athenians to build rwenty ships a year, but his statement is rightly doubted by Rhodes (1971) 115.

14. 15.

Kolbe (1901) esp. 386-397, summarized in Blackman (1969) 214-216. Thucydides (1.74) places the figure at a little less than two-thirds of 400; Demosthenes (18.238) says 200 out of three hundred. Edwards (1995) 195 notes the difficulty with Andokides' statement and how it differs from Aischines’ version, but does not notice the implications.

16.

For the date of the Eurymedon campaign see Badian (1993) 5-10.

17.

Isoc. 7.66 and construction. Themistokles, duty triremes Albini (1964)

18.

Lys. 30.22 say the Thirty destroyed the shipsheds but do not give the date of their Maidment (1941) 504 thinks the shipsheds must have been constructed by but there is no reason to assume this. The Athenians may have originally kept offon the beach without special facilities. Cf. Albini (1964) 65. 64 notes that Aischines makes no mention of the law creating the reserve fund and

considers this “un’altra prova, se ce ne fosse bisogno

19.

(...}, che egli imita Andocide:

solo un

imitatore frettoloso poteva tirare via” this information. Albini seriously underestimates the resourcefulness of ancient forgers, who were capable of taking details from several different sources when composing spurious works. I find it more likely that the mistake about the date of the law creating the fund indicates not that Aischines is “un imitatore frettoloso” but the author of the De Pace is “un falsario frettoloso”. Outbreak of Archidamian War over Megara: Thuc. 1.139; Ar. Pax 605; Ach. 524-527; devastation of Attika by Spartan army: Thuc, 2.19; 3.26; peace treaty concluded by Nikias: Thuc. 5.1725; annual tribute over 1,200 talents a year: Meiggs (1972) 343 with the bibliography cited there.

20. 21.

For Athenian colonies founded during the Empire see Plut. Per. 11.5-6 with Stadter (1989) 138142 and Graham (1983) 166-210. For the location of these cities see Map I (V) in Meiggs (1972). Eretria, Chalkis, and Karystos also contributed troops to the Sicilian Expedition (Thuc. 7.57.4). During the Archidamian War Karystos sent a contingent for Nikias’ expedition against Korinth in 425 (Thuc. 4. 42.1; 43.4). Athens also maintained control over the island by its cleruchy at Hestiaia (Thuc. 1.114.3; cf. Plut. Per. 23.4 and IGT’ 41). For a discussion of Athenian control over Euboia see Meiggs (1972) 565570.

22.

Lene Rubinstein points out that one could explain the similarities between the De Pace and Aischines by positing their reliance on a common source such as Hellanikos. In fact, Thompson (1967)

attempts

to explain

Andokides’

errors

as a result of his reliance on

Hellanikos.

The

problem with this is that we know almost nothing about Hellanikos’ work. And if Aischines obviously did not read Thucydides,

why would he have consulted his less illustrious contem-

porary? Such a hypothesis might explain the common errors shared by the De Pace and Aischines (though I find it highly improbable that a contemporary historian could have made so many

504

EDWARD

M. HARRIS

blunders). Yet it does not explain why Aischines makes fewer errors than the De Pace, nor why the De Pace uses the term presbeis autokratores incorrectly (see Section IT), nor why that speech makes so many mistakes about recent and contemporary events (see Sections HI-IV). But there is no need to speculate about Aischines’ source since he names him: it is his father (Aeschin. 3.191-192). 23.

There is no satisfactory discussion of the term in recent scholarship. Mosley (1973) 30-38 collects

most of the evidence, but considers the De Pace a genuine work of Andokides and does not distinguish between the two situations where this type of ambassadors are used. Ὁ. Kienast RE Suppl.

13 (1973) s.v. “Presbeia”, cols. 499-628, at cols. 564-565 discusses the term but relies

heavily on the Ds Pace for his analysis and does not study the rest of the evidence in detail. Missiou-Ladi (1987) and Skoczyolas Pownall (1995) discuss only a few of the passages where the

24. 25.

term occurs. Bosworth (1980) 166 does not comment on Arrian’s use of the term. The next sentence makes it clear that these leading men were acting as ambassadors (xproβευσάμενοι).

26.

Gomme in Gomme, Andrewes & Dover (1945-81) IV: 52 analyzes the passage, but does not compare the incident with other examples of negotiations conducted by ambassadors with full powers.

21.

Plutarch (Alc. 14.3-10; Nic. 10.4-6) gives a version of the story and adds that Alkibiades advised the Spartans not to reveal their powers because the Athenians would be tempted to make unreasonable demands if they knew the truth. Gomme in Gomme, Andrewes & Dover (1945-81) II: 52 nightly observed: “Plutarch’s non-Thucydidean matter does not suggest genuine fresh information.”

28.

29.

Underhill (1900) ad loc.: “When the vote of the Athenians to aid the Lacedaimonians amounted practically to an alliance, the exact terms for a more permanent footing had to be settled.” Cf. Lewis (1997) 29. Diod.

15.67.1 gives an abbreviated account of these negotiations but does not use the terın

πρέσβεις αὐτοκράτορες.

30.

Demosthenes may have questioned them in the Assembly during the debate about the treary, but all they did was to state that Philip would not accept peace without alliance (Aeschin. 3.71-72 -but Aischines’ account here is suspect - see Harris (1995) 72-73). In other words, they did not negotiate, but only clarified Philip’s position. There is therefore no reason to follow Mosley (1973) 37 n. 32 and Dover (1960) 72 who claim that Demosthenes is using the term in a non-technical sense.

Gomme in Gomme, Andrewes & Dover (1945-81) III: 602 does not comment on the phrase.

For Athens see JG I’ 105.35-36 with Rhodes (1971) 194-199. For Sparta see for example Ste. Croix (1972) 124-131. For Athens in 411 see Ath. Pol. 29.5 with

Harris (1990). Cf. Arist. Pol. 1317629-30. For the Assembly making the Council αὐτοκράτωρ “to fill in any details not provided for by” its decrees see Ste. Croix (1963) 115 with note 2. At 39 che speaker says that the Spartan ambassadors in Athens have come with full powers. This use of the term might fit the second category if they came with the intention of receiving the oaths in the event the Assembly voted to accept peace, but 23 suggests they may have possessed the power to negotiate the actual treaty.

See Herrmann (1990) 24. On the Conia Alcibiadem see Edwards (1995) 131-136, who rightly compares it with the kind of exercise described by Russell (1983) 16-17. Grafton (1990) 11. Thomas (1989) 127. Cf. Albini (1964) 100; Edwards (1995) 199. Westlake (1977). Athenian support and explains these information that

Badian (1993) 27 thinks that Thucydides simply omits any reference to for Amorges in the same way as he neglects to mention the Peace of Epilykos omissions as the result of his selectivity. But Thucydides does not simply omit the De Pace supplies. Thucydides actually mentions Athenian support for

Amorges, but dates it to a different period. Thus one cannot explain the difference between the

THE AUTHENTICITY OF ANDOKIDES’ DE PACE

505

two sources by appealing to Thucydides’ “selectivity”. Nor is there any reason to believe in the existence of a Peace of Epilykos — see note 4. 43.

Neither Albini (1964) nor Edwards (1995) comment on this error. Faute de mieux 1 have relied on the text of Didymos edited by Pearson & Stephens (1983). On this edition see the verdict of Wankel (1987): “Diese missratene Ausgabe sollte so bald wie möglich durch eine bessere ersetzt werden”.

45.

This was first suggested by Bruce (1966), then argued in greater detail by Hamilton (1979) 236-

239 and Badian (1991) 26-34. Missiou (1992) notes the opinions of Bruce and Hamilton, but arbitrarily rejects them without argument. For Didymos’ slovenly habits as a scholar see West

(1970) and Harris (1990).

46.

The hypothesis to the De Pace is most likely a very abbreviated version of the fragment of Philochoros. Badian, assuming that there was a meeting in Sparta in 392, dissociates the fragment of Philochoros quoted by Didymos from the fragment in the hypothesis to the De Pace. But if the De Pace is spurious there is no firm evidence for a conference in Sparta in 392. Cf. Ryder (1965) 31 ἢ. 2 “it is scarcely possible to argue from so brief a notice that Philochorus was not talking about two conferences”.

47.

For a summary of the case against the authenticity of the Conrra Alcibiadem see Edwards (1995) 131-136, 208-211. Ghiggia (1995) presents a more extensive case against authenticity, but dates the speech to the 390s and artributes it to Aischines Socraticus. See, however, the reservations

of Edwards (1998), which I share. 48.

I would like to thank my friends Christopher Carey, Michele Faraguna, and Lene Rubinstein for reading over a draft of this essay and offering helpful suggestions. They should not be held responsible for any remaining gaffes, howlers, and blunders.

Philinos and the Athenian Archons of the 250s BC

MICHAEL J. OSBORNE

The sporadic appearance of new texts inexorably brings closer the day when

the chronology of Athens in the third century BC will rest upon a solid foundation.' For the period 300/299 to 261/0 that day has surely dawned already, ex-

cept for a few nostalgists who continue to dream that the location of the archon Peithidemos should accord with hypothesis rather than with the available evidence.’ By contrast, for the period 260/59 to 229/8 the dawn of enlight-

enment still seems distant, even though at least two sequences of archons are clearly attested.’ Paradoxically, it seems likely that a major impediment to pro-

gress has been the refusal to countenance the possibility that the secretarial cycles, which indisputably are basic to the elucidation of the chronology before 261/0 (and for that matter after 229/8) may not be operational throughout those years, never mind represent a fundamental feature thereof. As I have argued at length elsewhere,’ these years did not witness democratic govern-

ment throughout, so that there is no prima facıe reason why so obviously dernocratic a process as observance of tribal cycles for the secretaries should be ex-

pected. Certainly there is no justification for the tacit and common presumption that virtue rests in the scheme which exhibits the longest secretarial sequences with the least breaks. This is not, as some critics have assumed, to

argue that secretarial cycles cannot have been employed in this period; rather it is to insist that independent evidence for their existence is essential, particu-

larly since there is indisputable evidence for their absence for much of the 240s.° It is the thesis of this brief paper that between the years 261/0 and 248/7, this latter being the first in a sequence of eight or nine years in which a secretary cycle was certainly not observed, sporadic occurrences of such cycles can be certified by reconstructing the chronology on the basis of other evidence. Leaving aside the basic linking of archons by cross reference® or by list,’

there are five key factors which together can assist in the elucidation of the chronology. Firstly, there are the archon-dated careers of military luminaries,

which provide a sequence, but one which does not reveal the extent of the gap between each archon. For the years under consideration the careers of Thoukritos of Myrrhinous® and Kallisthenes of Prospalta’ are relevant. Secondly,

there are the references to certain festivals within decrees, notably to the Great

508

MICHAEL J. OSBORNE

Panathenaia. This festival was quadrennial and the celebration fell in the first month

of the year

honours

(Hekatombaton)

so that references

at this festival in any other month

to promulgation

of

refer to the next year and, im-

portantly, indicate that it will be a year at which the Great Panathenaia are celebrated.'° Thirdly, improved autopsy of the stone fragments has provided important results — for example, the recent attributions on the basis of a careful

re-evaluation of the physical data of the fragmentary decrees JG I? 477, IG II” 774 and 1G II? 798 to the years of the archons Philostratos, Lysiades and Kleomachos respectively.'' Fourthly, a crucial step forward has been the recognition

of the importance of the Metonic Cycles, which are known to have been in-

troduced in Athens in the year 432/1.'? The temptation to treat these cycles as irrelevant

(a temptation

to which

the present

author has also succumbed

hitherto)'” must be firmly resisted, and certainly there can be no justification for ignoring them on the basis that they are not consonant with hypothetical secretary cycles. '* Quite the reverse. Their pattern should form a chronological

framework, unless there is clear evidence, as opposed to hypothesis, to indicate their neglect. Finally, of course, there is the trickle of additional information,

as new inscriptions are unearthed. For the period in question two key fragments are crucial, although neither has been published as yet. Firstly there is

the fragment of a stele found in Aristophanes Street some twenty years ago.!° This will be published shortly by Charalambos Kritzas and it is possible to reveal here that it joins an existing fragment from the Agora and attests that the

archons Athenodoros and Lysias served in consecutive years. For the purposes of this paper it is sufficient to note that it returns the archon Athenodoros from the 250s to the end of the 240s, where he had been set for many years until

Habicht and Meritt translated him earlier.'* Quite apart from this important document, the excavations of Basileios Petrakos at Rhamnous are bringing to light numerous, highly informative documents, which are being published with exemplary

expedition, and one of these, as yet known

only from

a note,’’

relates to the archon Diomedon. It seems certain that, as the excavations proceed, Rhamnous will provide the new evidence necessary to set the chronology

on a firm footing.

PHILINOS AND THE ATHENIAN ARCHONS

OF THE 250s BC

509

Table I Date

Archon and Tribe of Secretary

261/0

Arrheneides

[-]

260/59 259/8 258/7 257/6 256/5

Antiphon Thymochares Euboulos Diogeiton Alkibiades

El |) tC) |) [-] | } The exact order of these archons is unclear X |) ft] | >

255/4

Philinos

II

Scheme A

254/3 2532 252/1 251/0 250/49 249/8

Athenodoros Philostratos Antimachos Kleomachos Phanostratos Pheidostratos

248/7 247/6 246/5 245/4

Kallimedes Thersilochos Polyeuktos Hieron

244/3

Diomedon

Turning

to the period

Scheme B

X [-] V VI (-] [-]

| | | | | |

Athenodoros Kleomachos Philostratos Antimachos Phanostratos Pheidostratos

IV VI vu VIII

() Scheme C (with possible cycle) Χ VI [-] ν {-] | Phanostratos [-] | Kallimedes

[-] IV

Pheidostratos Thersilochos Polyeuktos Hieron

[M VI VII Vill

XII

261/0-248/7

my

prediction that the chronological

schema that I adumbrated in 1989 (Table HD would suffer the fate of all others and be in part at least falsified by the discovery of new evidence has turned out to be true. Unexpectedly, however, it was not the contents of the fragment

from Aristophanes Street, of which nothing but its very existence was then known,

which

certified the faulty nature of that schema.

Rather it was the

realization that the reported contents of a decree from Rhamnous honouring the general Archandros for his efforts in the war against Alexandros, son of Krateros in the year of Diomedon," clearly implied that the archon Diomedon must have served earlier than 244,3, because Alexandros was dead by then.'° Certainly he could not be as late as 244/3, where I had set him. The fragment

in question was simply attributed to the year 247/6 by Petrakos in his note, but it is clear that for him this was the year of Diomedon (as had been generally

accepted for many years).”” But the location of Diomedon numerous

is subject to

constraints. In the first place he is inextricably linked to three

510

MICHAEL J. OSBORNE

predecessor archons, namely Hieron, Polyeuktos and Thersilochos;?! secondly it is evident that Polyeuktos, who served two years before him, was archon in

a year of the Great Panathenaia. This latter is clear from a decree from the second prytany of the year of his predecessor, Thersilochos, which provides for honours to certain Lamian dikasts to be promulgated at the (forthcoming) Dionysta and the Great Panathenaia (of the next year). Since Diomedon must have served in or before 245/4, as already noted, the only possible scenario is

to set Polyeuktos in the Great Panathenaiac year 250/49 with Diomedon two years later in 248/7.2* Hieron, who served in an Intercalary Year,” then belongs in 249/8, which should have been an Intercalary Year in the tenth

Metonic Cycle. This provides for the following sequence: 251/0

Thersilochos

250/49

Polyeuktos

249/8

Hieron

248/7

Diomedon

The

effect is to set only nine archons between

Arrheneides

(261/0)*

and

Thersilochos (251/0) rather than the thirteen that I had assumed in my earlier paper. I turn now to the location of these nine archons, taking into account the incidence

of Great

Panathenaic

(GP)

years and

the needs

of the Metonic

Cycles, for which see Table II. Table II Date

Year

Archon

Tribe of Secretary | Festival

261/0

O

260/59

I

259/8

O

258/7

O

257/6

I

256/5

O

255/4

O

254/3

I

253/2

O

252/1

I

251/0

[9]

Thersilochos

VI

250/49

OÖ

Polyeuktos

VII

249/8

I

Hieron

VIII

248/7

oO

Diomedon

XI

Arrheneides

GP

GP

GP

PHILINOS AND THE ATHENIAN ARCHONS

OF THE 250s BC

411

In my earlier paper I had argued that the location of the archon Philinos was

crucial to any solution and that his year could be identified as one immediately preceding a Great Panathenaic Year. The rationale for the latter belief was that

the famous decree honouring Phaidros of Sphettos, which was passed in just such a year, belonged in the year of Philinos. For Lyandros Lysiadou Anaphiystios, who proposed the probouleumatic decree for Phaidros, also proposed

a probouleumaric decree in the year of Philinos and, given that both Philinos and the decree for Phaidros should belong in the earlier 250s, it seemed reasonable to envisage him proposing both decrees in the one year (of Philinos) rather

than serving twice as bouleutes in a very short period. On such a thesis Philinos would belong either in 259/8 or in 255/4. It has been argued that 259/8 is too

early for the decree for Phaidros at any rate, since such overtly unfavourable references to Antigonos are unlikely so soon after his installation of a governor in Athens.” Such an argument certainly has force, although Peter Rhodes has recently suggested that the regime imposed in 261/0 was relatively benign,” and

there is the consideration

that Phaidros’

son, Thymochares,

certainly

served as archon (perhaps by appointment, rather than as the result of election) very early in the 250s.”’ The later date of 255/4 has obvious attractions, since

it is reported by Eusebios” that some vestiges of liberalization were put in place in ca. 255. A third possibility, seldom canvassed, is that Phaidros was honoured somewhat earlier still, in the last years of the 260s. Clearly the point is debatable and it becomes, of course, irrelevant if the link between Philinos and the decree for Phaidros is not accepted. I will return to this issue shortly,

but express some considerable scepticism about the possibility of councillors serving in successive years, even if it is accepted that multiple tenure had be-

come acceptable.” For the present it is useful to review the available evidence without presupposing that Philinos belongs in a pre-Great Panathenaic Year. Significant evidence is provided by the attested careers of two military figures, namely Thoukritos of Myrrhinous and Kallisthenes of Prospalta.

Table III: Thoukritos of Myrrhinous” Office

Archon

Tribe of Secretary

Hipparch General General General

Philinos [.-... 10.....] Kleomachos Kallimedes

VI IV

General

Thersilochos

VI

Year

Il

251/0

512

MICHAEL J. OSBORNE

A consideration of these data indicates that Philinos must be set earlier than 254/3 to accommodate the intervening archons before Thersilochos. Indeed, taking into account the available evidence for military careers, which reveals no indisputable instances of unbroken service, it seems very unlikely that Thou-

kritos’ career should be compressed into five years, so that Philinos should be set somewhat earlier. If the common pattern of a gap of at least one year is observed, Philinos would ar latest have served in 259/8. That he must go back beyond 255/4 is certified by the location of Kallimedes. I had argued hitherto that, in the light of the decrees for the agonothetes Agathaios of Prospalta,’' it

would be reasonable to envisage Kallimedes as the immediate predecessor of Thersilochos. For in the first decree, passed at the customary annual meeting at the end of the Dionysia in the year of Kallimedes, Agathaios is thanked for his services and provision made for him to receive a reward as soon as he has

submitted his accounts. The second decree which gives the reward was passed on the same day at the same annual meeting in the year of Thersilochos. The obvious inference, which has served to establish other such links,” seemed to be that the years were successive. Despite this, the case for a gap of one year has been more or less generally accepted, albeit with the objective of establishing a tribal sequence for the secretaries of Kallimedes and Thersilochos, who come respectively from tribes IV and VI. This would be a weak argument per se, but the clear evidence

that Kallimedes

served

in an Ordinary year has

greater force -- for the year immediately pnor to Thersilochos should have been Intercalary. I thus accept that a gap of one year between Kallimedes and Thersilochos, however improbable on other grounds, is inevitable. A seemingly weighty ramification of having such a gap and setting Kallimedes in 253/2 is

that the Dionysia cannot have been celebrated every year at this time. Evidence in favour of such a situation is oblique, but there is some, as Ferguson noted

long ago” and as John Morgan recently reminds,” and this should be accepted rather than hypothesizing disruption in the pattern of the Metonic Cycle. So Kallimedes

should

be

set in the Ordinary

Year

253/2.

Kleomachos,

who

precedes him, cannot be his immediate predecessor, since he served in an Ordinary year too, whereas 254/3 would have been Intercalary. So Kleomachos goes back to 255/4 at latest. The implications are that Philinos at the very latest could have served in 257/6.

The career of Kallisthenes of Prospalta is of relevance for the further elucidiation of these years.

PHILINOS AND THE ATHENIAN ARCHONS OF THE 250s BC

§13

Table IV: Kallisthenes of Prospalta Office Phylarch

Archon Philostratos

Tribe of Secretary I, Il or VI

Hipparch

Antimachos

V

General General

Phanostratos Pheidostratos

V, VI or VII

Year

It seems clear that this group of archons must sit together as a block, straddling at most about a decade. There is no room for the whole group in the 240s or

230s** and it seems necessary to set the whole group in the 250s before Thersilochos (251/0) and his block of successors, as proposed by Habicht.” Given

that the pair Antiphon and Thymochares belong in the 250s, the upshot is that the archons who signpost the careers of Thoukritos and Kallisthenes make up

the remaining complement for those years. A number of factors help to elucidate the disposition. Firstly, Kleomachos is known to have been preceded by an archon whose preserved details are

A[....2....].°” The only available candidate is Antimachos. Secondly, the year of Antimachos, like that of Kleomachos, was Ordinary and the only available sequence of O+O is 256/5 and 255/4. The earlier sequence of 259/8 and 258/7

does not leave room after Arrheneides for the predecessors of Antimachos and Kieomachos, stratos, who

namely

Philinos,

[.....!°.....], and Philostratos. Thirdly, Philo-

precedes Antimachos

either 260/59

and needs an Intercalary Year, must have

or 257/6.% With Antimachos

and Kleomachos

in 256/5

and

255/4 respectively, and Kallimedes set in 253/2, the only possible locations for

Phanostratos and Pheidostratos are 254/3 and 252/1

respectively.” This

provides the following disposition of archons: 256/5

Antimachos

255/4

Kleomachos

254/3

Phanostratos

253/2

Kallimedes

252/1

Pheidostratos

251/0

Thersilochos

The upshot of the foregoing is to leave four archons for the quadrennium 260/59

to 257/6, namely

Thymochares.

Philostratos, Philinos and the pair Antiphon

and

514

MICHAEL J. OSBORNE

Philostratos should not precede Antimachos by very much, since these archons act as landmarks for the tenure of junior military office by Kallisthenes. He cannot be set before 262/1 in any event because the secretary in the Intercalary

Year of Philostratos was from tribe I, Il or VI, whereas the otherwise vacant year 263/2, when

the cycle would

sull have been

in effect, would

need

a

secretary from tribe III and the year 265/4 would be too far removed to be credible, even if Kallisthenes were to be taken for a nincompoop. In any case the reference to φιλία

(friendship) with King Antigonos

in the text of the

decree from the year of Philostratos strongly favours a date after 261/0. The available Intercalary Years are thus 260/59 and 257/6, although the latter is less

likely given the absence of evidence for successive tenure of such military office at this time. As for Philinos, his secretary was from tribe II and he cannot thus be located in the 260s because the year for an archon from tribe II (264/3) belongs to Diognetos. The nature of the year of Philinos is unclear,” but 257/6 is surely

not available because Lykomedes of Konthyle, who was a councillor in his year, also served in the year of Antimachos

(256/5) -- and whereas multiple

service as a councillor may well have been possible, the case for tenure in consecutive years has no foundation. Antiphon and Thymochares constitute

a pair and it is generally agreed that they served under the “dictatorship”. If Philostratos belongs in 260/59 and if Philinos cannot be set in 257/6 the pair must belong in 258/7 and 257/6, a disposition which suits the general predilection to restore the year of Thymochares as Intercalary. The effect of this is to set Philinos in 259/8. This is a year preceding one

which celebrates a Great Panathenaic festival, so that the question arises whether the coincidence is too great to deny that Lyandros, who proposed the

decree for Phaidros of Sphettos in a year prior to a Great Panathenaic festival, did so in the year of Philinos. The key is undoubtedly the date of the archon Euboulos

(I)

and

until his precise location is discovered

uncertainty will

prevail. The salient issues are as follows. Firstly, the decree for Phaidros is unlikely to come

propensity

after the archonship

of Phaidros

of his son, Thymochares,

to associate the benefactions

given the

of his old age with

assistance to his son. The decree should thus pre-date 257/6. Secondly, the

decree for Phaidros is posterior to the archonship of Euboulos (II) and was passed

in a year immediately

preceding the celebration

of the Great

Pan-

athanaia. The available years are 263/2 (archon unknown) and 259/8 (archon Philinos) — the year 267/6 (archon Menekles) is surely too early. Thirdly, given that the archonship

of Euboulos

(ID belongs

before

the fall of Athens

to

Antigonos Gonatas, as is to be deduced from the absence of prayers for the King in the surviving bouleutic decree (Agora XV 85), the currently vacant and

PHILINOS AND THE ATHENIAN ARCHONS OF THE 250s BC

515

appropriate years in the late 260s are 265/4 and 263,2." The available evi-

dence appears to favour 265/4 for Euboulos (ID, leaving it uncertain whether

the decree for Phaidros was passed in 263/2 or 259/8, The chronological conclusions for these years may be tabulated as follows:

Table V Date Meton

Year Attested

Archon

Tribe of Secretary

2610

10

260/59

II

I | Philostratos

259/78

|O

Philinos

258/77

tO

257/6

II

[I] | Thymochares

2565

|O

O | Antimachos

V

255/4

|O

O

VI

2543

II

2532

|O

252/1

I

|Thoukritos |career

|Kallisthenes career

Arrheneides

10) u

Phylarch Hipparch

[0] | Andphon

|Kleomachos

General 1

Hipparch General 2

Phanostratos

[0] |Kallimedes Pheidostratos

General 1

| IV

General 3

|(V, VI or

General 2

ΝΠ 251/0

|O

O

|Thersilochos

250/49

1O

O | Polyeuktos

249/8

|I

248/7

10

I | Hieron O | Diomedon

[VI

General 4

VI

Vill AI

An interesting upshot of this reconstruction is that two partial secretary cycles appear to be attested. The first, which is quite fragmentary, runs from 260/59 to 255/4. If it is not illusory, it covers the years of close control and, perhaps

unsurprisingly, commenced with the tribe Antigonis. The second, which runs for a few years from 254/3 or 253/2, is presumably to be associated with the liberalization referred to by Eusebios. Probably it is best to envisage a new start in 253/2, the tribal sequence re-commencing with the tribe in office when the

city fell to Antigonos. After 249/8 there was clearly a break and the evidence

certifies the neglect of the cycles until 240/39 or 239/8.”

516

MICHAEL J. OSBORNE

BIBLIOGRAPHY Agora XV = B.D. Meritt & J.S. Traill, The Athenian Agora XV: Inscriptions - The Athenian Councillors (Princeton 1974). Agora XVI = A.G. Woodhead, The Athentan Agora XVI: Inscriptions — The Decrees (Princeton 1997). Dinsmoor, Archons = W.B. Dinsmoor, The Archons of Athens in the Hellenisnic Age (Cambridge Mass.

1931; Amsterdam

1966).

Dinsmoor, Archon List = W.B. Dinsmoor, The Athenian Archon List in the Light of Recent Discoveries (New York City 1939). Habicht, C. 1979. Untersuchungen zur politischen Geschichte Athens tm 3. Jahrhundert v. Chr. (München). Habicht, C. 1982. Studien zur Geschichte Athens in hellenistischer Zeit, Hypomnemata 73 (Göttingen). Habicht, C. 1995. Athen. Die Geschichte der Sıadı in hellenistischer Zeit (München). Habicht, C. 1997. Athens From Alexander to Antony (Harvard and London). Heinen, H. 1972. Untersuchungen zur hellenisuscher Geschichte des 3. Jahrhunderts v. Chr., Historia Einzelschriften 20 (Wiesbaden). Meritt, B.D. 1961. The Athenian Year (Berkeley and Los Angeles). Osborne, M.J. 1985. “The Archonship of Nikias Hysteros and the Secretary Cycles in the Third Century BC,” ZPE 58: 275-295, Osborne, M.J. 1989. “The Chronology of Athens in the Mid Third Century BC,” ZPE 78: 209-242. Pouilloux, Rhamnonte = J. Pouilloux, La Forteresse de Rhamnonte

(Paris 1954).

Rhodes-Lewis, Decrees = P.J. Rhodes with (the late) David M. Lewis, The Decrees of the Greek States (Oxford 1997).

NOTES 1.

2.

This brief paper develops some thoughts presented in a public lecture at the Australian Institute of Archaeology in Athens on 3 February 1999. I should like to express my thanks to Professor John Morgan for many interesting observations on some of the key issues here both then and on other occasions. See most recently Woodhead, Agora XVI 274 ff, who, whilst giving his year as 268/7 or 265/4, inclines to the latter, which was the location consistently embraced by Ment. The evidence that “the War” [what can it be if not the Chremonidean War?] was in progress in the archonships of Menekles and Nikias of Otryne (267/6 and 266/5 respectively) surely indicates that the earlier date is correct. Cf. Heinen (1972)

3.

102f.; Osborne

(1989) 228f. η. 93.

The two sequences derive from a thiasotic decree from Salamis (SEG 2 9) moved in the year of

Kydenor

and

Theophemos.

providing

for a listing

of officials

from

the

year

of Polycuktos

to that

of

The list follows the decree in two columns, but unfortunately the stele bottom is

missing 50 that the exact number of constituents in the left column cannot be established with certainty. The left column gives the sequence Polyeuktos-Hieron-Diomedon (and incidentally reveals that the secretary cycle was broken after the year of Hieron - see further below n. 5}; the right column gives the sequence Kydenor-Eurykleides. Obviously Theophemos must precede Kydenor, but not necessarily directly since another decree of the year of Kydenor praises officials of the year of Philoneos. Taking into account the chronology adumbrated below for the 250s and

PHILINOS AND THE ATHENIAN ARCHONS

OF THE 250s BC

417

the needs of the Metonic Cycles, the likely order is Theophemos-Philoneos-Kydenor-Eurykleides, the first two to be restored beneath Diomedon in the left column. A number of other sequences are available, viz. Antipatros-Arrheneides (Apollodoros [FGrHist 244) fr. 44); Antiphon-Thymochares (/G II’ 700 + Hesperia 7 [1938] 110 ff. no. 20); Antimachos-Kleomachos

(cf 10 II’? 798

+ Osborne

[1989]

235 Β.); Thersilochos-Polyeuktos

(see

Hesperia 7 [1938] 121 ff. no. 24); and Athenodoros-Lysias (see n. 15 below). Osborne (1985) 283 ff; Osborne (1989) 209-242 passim. The archons and known secretarial affiliations in SEG 2 9 bear this out: Polyeuktos (VII), Hieron (VII), Diomedon

(XIT), Theophemos

(7), Philoneos (VI), Kydenor

(VID, Eurykleides (?). See

also Rhodes-Lewis, Decrees 51. That is, where a document from the year of one archon refers to events in the year of a predecessor. The assumption that, in routine matters at any rate, the reference is always to the immediate predecessor is widely embraced, but the Kydenor case (adverted to in n. 3 above) is worrying, as is that of Kallimedes and Thersilochos (discussed below). Cf., for example, JG IP? 1706, listing Heliodoros and his five successor archons. Even here, however, there is a major dilemma in respect of location — Heliodoros (secretary tribe IX) is

regularly set in 229/8 on the seemingly strong grounds that Thrasyphon is independently dated to 221/0 (IuMagnesia no. 16 = Syil.’ 557) and has a secretary from tribe V; but such a location

demands a break in the seemingly well-attested secretary cycle of the 230s (see further n. 43 below) and does not accord with the expectations of the Eleventh Metonic Cycle. The downdaung of Heliodoros and his group by one year would, as John Morgan has demonstrated, suit

the expectations of both secretarial and Metonic cycles, but it is not easy to see how Thrasyphon can be dislodged from 221/0, since his year is specified in the text above as being equated with Olympiad 139,4. For Thoukritos cf. 16 112 2856 + Pouilloux, Rhamnonte 126 ff. no. 12; JG IP 1279 + Y. Garlan, BCH 89 (1965) 339 ff [Ὁ Π 1286 + Pouilloux, Rhammonte 124 ff. no. 11; SEG 41 86. See also n. 30 below. For Kallisthenes cf. 10 II’ 2854 + Pouilloux, Rhanmonte

121 ff. No. 9.

For the date of the Panarhenata, cf J.D. Mikalson, The Sacred and Civil Calendar of the Athenian Year (Princeton 1975) 34. For a crucial example see Agora XVI no. 208. For details see Osborne (1989) 236 ff. (Philostratos); 223 ff. (Lysiades}; 235 ff. (Kleomachos). For the Metonic Cycles cf. Dinsmoor, Archons 309 fff.

Osborne (1989) 241. As has been emphasized by John Morgan, 474 100 (1996) 395, etc. Devotees of secretarial cycles have tended to ignore the framework of the Metonic Cycles when it is inconvenient for their hypothetical, secretary cycles. For an overt and striking statement in support of such disregard sec Woodhead, Agora XVI p. 313. 15, 16.

The

discovery was announced,

without details, in ArchDelr 33 (1978)

B (1)

13, published

in

1985. Athenodoros had been set in 243/2 by Dinsmoor, Archons in 1931; in 1939 he relocated him to 240/39 (in Archon List) and this date was followed by Meritt (1961) and Historia 26 (1977) 1685. The case for an earlier date for Athenodoros was argued by Habicht (1979) 137ff. and in the light of this Mentt, Hesperia 50 (1981) 82ff. translated Athenodoros to the year 256/5, and the present author (Osborne [1989] 212ff.) assigned him to 254/3.

17.

Ergon (1993) 7 f. Cf. Habicht (1997)

18, 19. 20.

The decree fragment is noted by B. Petrakos, Ergon (1993) 7 ff.

162 n. 44 = Habicht (1995) 165 n. 44; also further below.

For the death of Alexandros, son of Krateros, see Habicht (1997) 163 = Habicht (1995) 165.

Cf. B.D. Meritt, Historia 26 (1977) 176; (1961) 234; W.B. Dinsmoor, Hesperia 23 (1954) 2B4ff. Elsewhere in summarizing the career of the general Philotheos of Phrearrhioi, Petrakos adverts to the year of Diomedon as 247 or 244. Cf. SEG 41 88 (commentary).

21.

That Diomedon was preceded by Hieron, and Hieron by Polyeuktos, is known from SEG 2 9 (cf. n. 3 above); that Thersilochos was the immediate predecessor of Polyeuktos is inferred from the ephebic decree Hesperia 7 (1938) 121 ff no. 24, where the ephebic corps of the year of Thersilochos is honoured in the year of Polyeuktos. That the four archons Thersilochos, Polyeuktos, Hieron and Diomedon were consecutive has been generally accepted since Dinsmoor, Archon List.

518 22.

MICHAEL J. OSBORNE

The consideration that Polyeuktos must have a year that witnessed a celebration of the Great Panathenaia and that his year was Ordinary (as is clear from /G II? 680 cf. 679) confirms 250/49

as the only possible year for him. The Great Panathenaiac years 246/5 and 254/3 were both Intercalary years and 242/1 is far too late. Such a date for Polyeuktos goes against the seemingly strong arguments made by Habicht (1979) 1334. and G. Nachtergael, Historia 25 (1976) 62 ff. and Les Galates en Grèce et les Sotéria de Delphes (Brussels 1975) 211 ff., and rehearsed by the present author in ZPE 78 (1989) 218 Ε΄, based on the likely date of the acceptance in Athens of the Satena for the (earlier) victory over the Kelts. However, the case for the earlier date was argued convincingly by John Morgan at the Annual Meeting of the Archaeological Institute of America in Chicago (1997). 23. 24.

For the year of Hieron cf. [G IP? 683. For the date of Arrheneides, whose year is known from Diog. Laert. 7.10 to have been Ordinary, cf. Heinen (1972) 139#.; also Habicht (1982) 13; B.D. Meritt, Hespenia 80 (1981) 96ff.; Osborne (1989) 226 ff. The case for 262/1 presented by T. Dorandi, ZPE 84 (1990) 130f. seems to me to be quite unconvincing.

25.

For the royal governor in this period see most recently Habicht (1997) 150-157 = Habicht (1995)

26.

154-160; Rhodes-Lewis, Decrees 49 ff. Cf. Rhodes-Lewis, Decrees 49-52.

27.

For Thymochares cf. Habicht (1997) 155 with n. 21 = Habicht (1995) 159 with n. 21. As is known from 10 IP 682, Thymochares also served as agonothetes in the archonship of Euboulos, emulating his father, who had undertaken this task in the archonship of Nikias (282/1). It seems

likely that Thymochares’ agonothesia pre-dated his archonship, but by how much? Some have argued

that Euboulos

should be identified as the archon

of 274/3

(cf. A.S. Henry, Chinm

18

(1988) 215 &.), but this seems too far removed from Thymochares’ otherwise attested career which belongs in the middle of the century. The alternative is to accept that there was a second

archon called Euboulos who served in the middle years of the century. Along with others I have argued that there was indeed a second Euboulos, that he is certainly attested in the bouleutic decree Agora XV 85, that he was probably mentioned in the decree for Apollodoros published as Pouilloux, Rhamnonte no. 7 and that he served in the period 260/59-256/5 (ZPE [1989] 228 n. 90). As will become clear, there is no room for Euboulos

(II) m the 250s on the dates embraced

here for Thersilochos and his followers nor can he be restored as the archon in the decree for Apollodoros, but his existence is not thereby impugned and there is no difficulty in assigning him to one of the vacant years of the late 260s -- see n. 41 below.

28.

Eusebius Chronica ed. A. Schöne (Berlin 1866) 2:120.

29.

See also Rhodes-Lewis, Decrees 51 n. 108.

30.

For the evidence for his career, see n.

8 above. The attempt by Meritt, Hespena 50 (1981) 85ff.

to pervert this evidence by suggesting that one should not read the citations in /G I]? 2856 from left to right is surely incredible and it is surprising to see it given credence by Woodhead, Agora

XVI p. 284.

31, 32.

IG IP 780. See Osborne (1989) 238f. See, for example, /G I? 788 where the praises in the year of Lysanias for the activities of a priest in the year of Ekphantos are universally taken to indicate that Ekphantos was the immediate predecessor of Lysanias (and, incidentally, to establish the existence of a secretary cycle, since the

secretaries of Ekphantos and Lysanias come from tribes II and III respectively). 33.

W.S. Ferguson, Kito 8 (1908) 347.

34,

John Morgan per epistulam.

35.

The

period

251/0-243/2

on

the

dates

argued

for above

is filled by Thersilochos,

Lysiades,

Philoneos and the group associated with SEG 2 9 (Polyeuktos, Hieron, Diomedon, Theophemos, Kydenor and Eurykleides); the years 239/8-234/3 are taken by Athenodoros, Lysias, Aristion, Kimon, Ekphantos and Lysanias; Alkibiades needs accommodating (cf. n. 42 below); and two further archons are known for the period 233/2-230/29 viz. Jason (231/0 or 230/29, cf.

Philodemos Ind. Sto. 28; Merirt [1961] 224f.) and Mneseides (SEG 41 87). There is thus no appropriate set of “vacancies” to accommodate the four archons Philostratos, Antimachos, Phanostratos and Pheidostratos. Given that the contents of the preserved decree from the year of Philostratos favour a date for him in the early years of control by Antigonos Gonatas (sce further below) and that Antimachos was almost certainly the predecessor of Kleomachos, who

precedes

PHILINOS AND THE ATHENIAN ARCHONS

OF THE 2505 BC

519

Thersilochos

assignation

and

(251/0)

by

at least

two

years,

the

of Phanostratos

Pheidostratos to slots many years later in the late 2305 provides a wildly implausible military career path for Kallisthenes. Cf. Habicht (1979)

37. 38.

128-133;

144-146

Cf. IG If 798 + Osborne (1989) 235 ff. For the relevant data on Philostratos cf. 1G II? 477 + Osborne (1989) 236 £. No further information has come to light for Phanostratos. In the case of Pheidostratos there exists ἃ small fragment of the prescript of a decree from his year (SEG 32 126 + Osborne [1989] 240 - now re-published as Agora XVI

219). The assertion by Woodhead

(p. 314) that the year

was Ordinary is hardly justified. The only decree with a clearly preserved prescript from the year of Philinos belongs early in the first month and prytany (Hekatombaion 11 = Prytany I 11) which leaves in doubt the nature of the year as Intercalary or Ordinary. In Hesperia 38 (1969) 432 ff. (= SEG 21 386) Merict argued convincingly on the basis of the preserved details of the secretary that the fragment of a decree

in the British Museum published as /G II’ 697, and re-published with an improved text by Sterling Dow, Hesperia 32 (1963) 3528, belonged to the year of Philinos. He went on to claim on the basis of restoration that the year was Intercalary and most recently Woodhead, Agora XVI

p. 284 has been disposed to follow him in this. This is far from clear since there are numerous possibilities for restoration and more weight should be given to the bracketed aside in Meritt’s commentary (p. 434) that “it is impossible to tell the calendar character of the year from the new

text published above [= /G II? 697]”. 41.

Ir is clear in these circumstances that Euboulos (IT) cannot be the archon mentioned in the decree for Apollodoros from Rhamnous (Pouilloux, Rhamnonte no. 7 -- for which cf. n. 27 above) - for the contents certify that this was passed in the period when Antigonos Gonatas was in control. A close examination of the text suggests further that the name of the archon in line 9 should have

42.

8 1/2 letters so that the restoration of Antimachos, who served in 256/5, can be proposed with confidence. A crucial piece of evidence is JG IT? 1273, a thiasotic decree with the date by archon and month inscribed on the moulding of a pedimental stele {ἐπί - - jou ἄρχοντος" [univ

᾿Ανθεστηριῶνίοςἢ).

In the text there is a reference to the archon Nikias, who is generally taken to be the archon of the immediately preceding year. In ZPE (1989) 230 n. 97 I idenufied this archon as Nikias (III) of

Otryne (as had Dinsmoor, Archon List 451.) and suggested that his immediate successor might be restored as Phanomachos. In ZPE 104 (1994) 103 ff. (cf. SEG 44 58) Arnaoutoglou rejected both of these propositions, claiming that the reference in the text must be to the earlier Nikias (IT) and that his successor, Ourias, should thus be restored in the heading of /G I? 1273, as had been

proposed by B.D. Meritt, Hesperia 7 (1938) 108. Neither of these claims can withstand serious examination and the latter provides an awful warning of the dangers of forsaking epigraphical autopsy in favour of reliance upon squeezes and photographs. For Arnaoutoglou has failed to take into account the fact that the inscribed heading protrudes beyond the main text on both sides, despite the unwontedly detailed comments of Kirchner on this very issue ad 10 II’ 1273, where he specifically corrected Koehler and Velsen (neither of whom

had access to the stone, which is

now in the Epigraphical Museum as EM 7757). As a result he has been inveigied into the observably false assertion that there is not room for the last two letters of the word ᾿Ανθεστηριώνίος) (failing to notice that the stone is sufficiently preserved below surface level). He

compounds this by asserting that only 4 cm (providing room for 6 full letters) are available to the left of -Jau for the restoration of the archon’s name, and on this basis endorses Meritt’s restoration [Em Oùpijou. In reality there are 6 cm of available space to the edge of the inscribed moulding - 4 cm is the distance to the edge of the main surface - so that there should be 8 full letters prior

to -Jou, as indeed was reported by Dinsmoor, loc. cit. (and as I have been able to confirm by inspection in the company of Professors John Morgan and Sean Byrne). In such circumstances the restoration of Ourias is far too short, except on the hypothesis of a bizarrely lop-sided heading surmounting a text that displays an otherwise careful disposition of letters. My earlier restoration of Phanomachos (9 1/2 letters before -]ou) is clearly incorrect also, and I withdraw it and propose

in its place, and with some confidence, [Ἐπ᾿ Εὐβούλου (8 letters before -]ou) on the grounds that it is of appropriate length, that Euboulos

(IT) should belong in either 265/4 or 263/2, and that

none of the other strictly unplaced archons are suitable for the available space. In this last regard

MICHAEL J. OSBORNE

520

in detail: Lykeas is too short, as would be Nikias himself (restored in the original edition by Pittakys); Polystratos and Phanomachos are too long; Alkibiades is not only too long but also belongs after the fall of Athens to Antigonos Gonatas, as is clear from /G I? 776. 9 ff and Diogeiton is obviously beyond consideration. In the light of the foregoing it seems reasonable to propose that Phanomachos, who served during the working life of Cutter IV in the system of Tracy (cf. S.V. Tracy, Hesperia 57 [1988] 303 ff.) - a prolific and long-lived practitioner, whose dated endeavours span the period 286/5 (Diokles) to 239/8 (Athenodoros) - belongs in 263/2 and that Euboulos (II) served two years carlier in 265/4. Pace Amaoutoglou, the failure to endow

Nikias (III) with his demotic in a private document, 85 opposed to a public decree, is not problematic. It deserves note that the monument for Phaidros of Sphettos is unexpectedly modest in nature, embodying an unusually slender stele (thicker chan it is broad) of Hymettian marble, inscribed with tiny letters - a product perhaps of the war conditions prior to the fall of the city to Antigonos. 43.

Lysias served in an Intercalary year (cf. Agora XVI no. 218) and the tribe of his secretary is known (from the text from Aristophanes Street -- cf. n. 15 above) to have been XI. Athenodoros was his

immediate predecessor with a secretary from tribe X. The only available Intercalary year for Lysias, in whose year of office the Demeitrian War erupted, would seem to be 238/7 (241/0 is far too early and 235/4 too late). Ekphantos, who also served in the Demetrian War, had a secretary

from tribe II in an Intercalary year, surely 235/4, and his successor was Lysanias whose secretary was from tribe III. The existence of a secretary cycle in the 230s thus seems assured. Whether it started with Athenodoros (secretary tribe X) in 239/8 or slightly earlier is not clear — equally unclear, but beyond the scope of this paper, is the sequel, for the salient points of which see n. 7 above.

3 Athenian Law

Auswahl und Bewertung von Dramatischen Aufführungen in der athenischen Demokratie WOLFGANG SCHULLER & MARTIN DREHER

I. Problemstellung Die athenische Demokratie verwirklichte sich dadurch, daß zur Erreichung ihrer politischen Ziele gut durchdachte Verfahren angewandt wurden. Sie sind von Mogens

Hansen beschrieben und analysiert worden, soweit sie sich auf

Politisches im engeren Sinne beziehen.' Nun wird man aber sagen müssen, daß zum öffentlichen und im weiteren Sinne politischen Leben Athens noch andere Gebiete gehörten, wie etwa die Bauplanung?

oder auch die Theaterauffüh-

rungen und ihre Organisation.” Der Zusammenhang der Bauplanung, einschließlich der Einsetzung der Epistatai, mit der Demokratie

ist, so weit es

ging, einigermaßen geklärt, jedoch ist hinsichtlich des Theaterwesens noch manches Faktische nicht im Detail untersucht oder jedenfalis nicht strikt an

den Quellen nachgeprüft, und ebenfalls ist der Zusammenhang mit der Demokratie noch nicht explizit hergestellt worden. Wir wollen das hiermit tun, also die Fragen behandeln, wie es eigentlich zur Auswahl der Srücke kam, die aufgeführt

wurden,

wie

nach

der

Aufführung

die

Rangfolge

unter

ihnen

festgestellt und die Preise verliehen wurden‘ und wie sich das Verfahren zu sonstigen Regelungen der Demokratie verhielt.

HI. Das Faktische 1. Uber die Auswahl der Stiicke ist zu den dithyrambischen Chören, die bei

den Dionysien und Thargelien aufgeführt wurden, nichts zu ermittein. Es ist deshalb in diesem Punkt nur von den Tragödien und Komödien zu sprechen, die bei den Dionysien und Lenäen zur Aufführung kamen. Aristoteles sagt in seinem “Staat der Athener” unmittelbar nichts darüber, es scheint ihm also nicht so wichtig gewesen zu sein (und deshalb ist es auch verzeihlich, wenn die

Heutigen diese Frage bisher vernachlässigt haben). Wovon er spricht, ist, daß es zu den Pflichten des Archons gehörte, nach Amtsantritt die Choregen für

524

WOLFGANG

SCHULLER ἃ MARTIN DREHER

die Tragödien und Komödien zu ernennen (Anistot. Ath. Pol. 56,3 mit dem Hinweis, daß zu Aristoteles’ Zeiten die Choregen der Komödien, ebenso wie

die der dithyrambischen Chöre, von den Phylen bestimmt wurden).” Während diese Aufgabe für die Dionysien und Thargelien dem Archon eponymos zufiel, läßt sich aufgrund einer anderen Stelle der aristotelischen Schrift (Ath. pol. 57,1) annehmen, daß sie für die Lenäen der Basileus zu übernehmen hatte.°

Der Chorege stellte dann den Chor zusammen, und anschließend erhielt der jeweilige Dichter einen Chor für sein Stück. Diese Zuordnung geschah wohl durch das Los: Denn wenn schon die Zuteilung der Flötisten zu den Chören durch

das Los

erfolgte,’ wodurch

Rivalitäten vermieden

wurden,

dann

ist

dieses Verfahren umso eher beim Zusammenbringen von Stück und Chor zu erwarten. Inzwischen

mußte

aber

schon

überhaupt aufgeführt werden

festgestellt

worden

sein,

welche

Stücke

sollten, und diese Prozedur ist es, die hier

besonders interessiert. Direkt steht nichts in den Quellen. Es finden sich aber die Formulierungen, daß der Verfasser des Stückes vom Archon “einen Chor

fordert”, daß der Archon ihn entweder “nicht gibt” oder eben “gibt”, daß man ihn auf diese Weise “bekommt” und dadurch “hat”. Damit steht fest, daß es der Archon

(eponymos

bzw.

Basileus, so auch im folgenden)

war, der die

Auswahl vornahm und der dann dem jeweiligen Srück einen Chor (durch Los)

zuteilte, nicht umgekehrt übrigens dem Chor ein Stück. Die Stücke wurden gewiß in der Form präsentiert, daß der Dichter den schriftlichen Text beim Archon einreichte. Daß er ihn zudem noch vorlas, wird nur aus einer Stelle der platonischen “Gesetze” geschlossen, an der Platon auch explizit vorsieht, daß

über die Zulassung von Stücken die Behörden

entscheiden sollen.’ Diese

Konstruktion muß nicht automatisch die herrschende Praxis des athenischen Staatslebens wiedergeben; das ist in diesem Fall auch deshalb eher unwahrscheinlich,

weil ein zu großer,

auch

zeitlicher, Aufwand

damit

verbunden

gewesen wäre, der außerdem allzuviel von dem präjudiziert hätte, was erst für

die eigentliche Aufführung vorgesehen war. Feste Qualifikationsregeln für die Dichter hat es nicht gegeben, so daß das

persönliche Urteil der Archonten

entscheidend war.'° Nun

muß

man

be-

denken, daß die Archonten erlost wurden, wenn auch aus Vorgewählten, daß also, wie in diesem Falle, Kunstsinn oder jedenfalls eine gewisse Vertrautheit mit der dramatischen

Produkuon

Athens

wohl

nicht immer

vorausgesetzt

werden konnte.'! Gleichwohl scheint das Judiz der Archonten bei der Zulassung der Stücke nicht schlecht gewesen zu sein, wie man trotz möglicherweise ungerechtfertigter Ablehnungen’ alles in allem gewiß sagen kann: Wenn gelegentlich das Urteilsvermögen der Preisrichter für ihre Wertung der auf-

AUSWAHL UND BEWERTUNG VON DRAMATISCHEN AUFFÜHRUNGEN

525

geführten Stücke positiv hervorgehoben wird,’? dann muß man dieses Lob bereits dem Archon erteilen, der die entscheidende Vorauswahl getroffen hatte.

Vielleicht gibt es den Ansatz einer Erklärung. Nach Aristoteles (Ath. Pol. 56,1) konnte sich jeder Archon zwei Paredroi aussuchen. Wie alle anderen Amtsträger auch hatten sie sich der Dokimasie und den Euthynai zu unterziehen, aber die Bestellung selber geschah ausschließlich auf persönlichen Wunsch des Archons. Zu erklären ist diese Irregularität möglicherweise dadurch, daß die persönlichen Gehilfen des Archons sein Vertrauen haben mußten; ein weiterer

Grund war offenbar der, daß sie sich gerade auf den Gebieten auskennen mußten,

die dem

jeweiligen Archon

fremd waren.'* Bei einem

amusischen

Archon, den es auch in Athen gegeben haben dürfte und der allerdings auch ein gewisses Quantum Selbsterkenntnis haben mußte, wäre daran zu denken, daß er sich einen literarisch gebildeten Paredros aussuchte, der ihn bei der

Auswahl der Stücke beriet.'? Gleichwohl blieb die Auswahl der Stücke trotz der Beratungsmöglichkeiten des Archons dessen persönliche Entscheidung, die daher auch Bestechung er-

möglichte, der in der athenischen Demokratie sonst so entschieden vorgebeugt wurde. Es gibt aber keine Anhaltspunkte dafür, daß gegen die Entscheidung

des Archons ein Gericht hatte angerufen werden können. Das wurde wohl weniger deshalb vermieden, weil man den Dikasten keine Zeit für die Anhörung der Srücke oder keine Kompetenz zu deren Beurteilung zugetraut hätte — die Athener glaubten ja bekanntermaßen, sie seien für alles kompetent! -, sondern

vielmehr

deshalb,

weil ein solcher Prozeß

die Kenntnis

und

Be-

wertung aller eingereichten Stücke vorweggenommen hatte. Nur im Vergleich mit sämtlichen Stücken untereinander hatte das Gericht entscheiden können,

und

damit

weggefallen,

wäre

nicht nur die Spannung

auch

der Agon

selber wäre

für die eigentliche Aufführung in einem

wichtigen

Teil vorweg-

genommen worden, und das wäre sowohl dem Publikum als auch vielleicht den Göttern, zu deren Ehren die Aufführungen stattfanden, nicht zumutbar

gewesen. Auffällig ist, daß das Problem, das wir hier sehen, von den Zeitgenossen anscheinend nicht als solches angesehen wurde. Anders ist es nicht zu erklären,

daß kein anderes Verfahren ersonnen wurde und daß überhaupt nirgendwo darauf eingegangen wird -- während selbst Mogens Hansens Entdeckung des Prinzips “Initiative und Entscheidung”, das auf die Auswahl der Stücke durch die Entscheidung des Archons

offenbar nicht angewandt

wurde,

immerhin

durch einige Aristoteles-Stellen angeregt worden ist.'* Hinsichtlich der Aufführungen interessiert sich Aristoteles nur für die modernen

Erklärer

folgen

ihm

darin.

Aber

Fragen der Choregie, und die

auch

die doch

nicht wenigen

Stellen, an denen vom Fordern bzw. Geben, Erhalten und Haben eines Chores

526

WOLFGANG

SCHULLER & MARTIN

DREHER

die Rede ist, formulieren eben so und sprechen nicht aus, daß der Archon über die Annahme des Stückes entscheidet und entsprechend die Zulassung bei ihm erbeten und von ihm erteilt wird.

Eine Erklärung für dieses Faktum könnte darin liegen, daß es nur wenige Autoren gegeben hat, so daß die Auswahl sich einigermaßen von selbst ergeben haben könnte; wir würden daher ein Scheinproblem sehen. Das ist aber nicht

der Fall, wie schon ein kurzer Blick in die Poetae Comici Graeci zeigt. Vielleicht hat diese mangelnde

Problematisierung aber, zweitens, etwas mit der

kultischen Selbstverständlichkeit zu tun, mit der schon von jeher der Basileus die Feste vorbereiten mußte. Weil die Athener gute Erfahrungen damit gemacht hatten, wurden dessen Kompetenzen bei der Organisation der Feste nie abgeschafft, sondern im Gegenteil bet der Einführung neuer Feste bzw. bei deren Neuordnung nach der Tyrannis auch auf den Eponymos übertragen. So

wurde später auch die Auswahl der Stücke einfach zu den bisherigen Kompetenzen dazugefügt und wurde

für die Lenäen vom

Basileus, für die Dio-

nysien vom Archon vorgenommen.

2. Die Bestellung der Preisrichter, zu der wir nun übergehen,’ betrifft im Unterschied zum vorherigen auch die Dithyramben-Aufführungen. Während Aristoteles überhaupt nichts dazu sagt, gibt es vier — bekannte -- einschlägige Quellenstücke, die wir hier so genau wie möglich betrachten wollen, a) Isokrates 17,33f. Πυθόδωρον yap τὸν σκηνίτην καλούμενον, ὃς ὑπὲρ Πασίωνος ἄπαντα καὶ λέγει Kai πράττει, τίς οὐκ οἷδεν ὑμῶν πέρυσιν ἀνοίξαντα τὰς ὑδρίας καὶ τοὺς κριτὰς ἐξελόντα

τοὺς ὑπὸ τῆς βουλῆς εἰσβληθέντας; καίτοι ὅστις μικρῶν ἕνεκα καὶ περὶ τοῦ σώματος κινδυνεύων ταύτας ὑπανοίγειν ἐτόλμησεν, al σεσημασμέναι μὲν ἦσαν ὑπὸ τῶν πρυτάνεων, κατεσφραγισμέναι δ' ὑπὸ τῶν χορηγῶν, ἐφυλάττοντο 6' ὑπὸ τῶν ταμιῶν, ἔκειντο δ' ἐν ἀκροπόλει... “Gibt es denn jemanden,

der nicht wüßte,

daß Pythodoros,

der Budenbe-

treiber genannt, der nur im Interesse von Pasion redet und handelt, im letzten Jahr die Hydrien öffnete und die Täfelchen (mit den Namen der Preisrichter)

herausnahm, die von der Bule hineingelegt worden waren? Und wenn schon jemand um geringer Vorteile willen und unter Lebensgefahr es wagte, diese

Urnen heimlich zu öffnen, die von den Prytanen beschriftet,’ von den Choregen versiegelt und von den Tamiai bewacht auf der Akropolis standen, ...” Daraus ergibt sich: 1. Der Rat legt die Täfelchen (mit den Namen der Preisrichter) in Hydrien; 2. die Prytanen bezeichnen die Hydrien; 3. die Choregen versiegeln sie; 4. sie kommen

auf die Akropolis;

5. dort bewachen

sie die

Tamiai; 6. auf unbefugtes Öffnen steht die Todesstrafe. Nicht folgt aus dieser

AUSWAHL

UND

BEWERTUNG

VON DRAMATISCHEN

AUFFUHRUNGEN

527

Quelle, wie die Zahl und Phylenzugehörigkeit der Preisrichter bestimmt wird, und wie viele Hydrien eingesetzt werden.

Hervorzuheben

ist aber, daß der

Vorgang sehr ernst genommen wird, wie aus dem komplizierten Versiegelungsund Bewachungsvorgang, auch dem Bewachungsort, sowie aus der Androhung der Todesstrafe folgt. Das deutet auf den kultischen Ursprung und Charakter

des gesamten

Vorgangs

hin, ebenso wie die Tatsache, daß die festlichen

Aufführungen Agone genannt werden und daß der Archon deren Leitung hat (Arıstot. Ath. Pol. 56,5). b) Lysias 4,3f. ἐβουλόμην δ' ἂν μὴ ἀπολαχεῖν αὐτὸν κριτὴν Διονυσίοις, ἵν’ ὑμῖν φανερὸς ἐγένετο ἐμοὶ διηλλαγμένος, κρίνας τὴν ἐμὴν φυλὴν νικᾶν' νῦν δὲ ἔγραψε μὲν ταῦτα εἰς τὸ γραμματεῖον ἀπέλαχε δέ. καὶ ὅτι ἀληθῆ ταῦτα λέγω, Φιλῖνος καὶ Διοκλῆς ἴσασινἀλλ' οὐκ ἔστ᾽ αὐτοῖς μαρτυρῆσαι μὴ διομοσαμένοις περὶ τῆς αἰτίας ἧς ἐγὼ φεύγω, ἐπεὶ σαφῶς ἔγνωτ᾽ ἂν ὅτι ἡμεῖς ἦμεν αὐτὸν οἱ κρίτην ἐμβαλόντες καὶ ἡμῶν ἕνεκα ἐκαθίζετο.

“Ich wünschte, man hätte ihn als Preisrichter bei den Dionysien nicht weggelost,

damit

Euch

durch

seine

Stimmabgabe

fiir den

Sieg meiner

Phyle

offenkundig geworden wäre, daß er sich mit mir ausgesöhnt hatte. In der Tat schrieb er das auf sein Täfelchen, Wahrheit

sage, wissen

aber er wurde

Philinos und

nicht erlost. Daß

Diokles; sie können

ich die

es aber nicht be-

zeugen, weil sie in diesem Verfahren, das gegen mich geführt wird, nicht vereidigt worden sind. Ihr erführet sonst genau, daß wir es waren, die ihn (i.e. seinen Namen)

als Preisrichter hinein (1.6. in die Urne) geworfen haben und

daß er wegen uns auf der Bank der Preisrichter saß.” Daraus

ergibt

sich:

1. die Preisrichter

(im

konkreten

Fall ein bestimmter

Preisrichter, aber das darf wohl verallgemeinert werden) werden (wohl) von Privatleuten vorgeschlagen; eventuell muß ein Kandidat von mindestens drei dazu

Berechtigten

Phylen bestimmt; stimmung

über

vorgeschlagen

werden;

2. die Preisrichter werden

3. sie stimmen schriftlich ab; 4. sie kommen die Aufführungen

eventuell

nicht

zum

Zuge.

nach

bei der AbNicht

folgt

daraus, ob die Preisrichter öffentlich oder geheim vorgeschlagen werden, und wer sie einsetzt, ebensowenig, wie der Vorgang aussieht, durch den man nach

der Nominierung endgültig Preisrichter wird — oder ob der bloße Vorschlag genügt, daß es also kein weiteres Verfahren gibt. c) Demosthenes 21,17f. 65. καὶ οὐδ᾽ ἐνταῦθ᾽ ἔστη τῆς ὕβρεως, ἀλλὰ τοσοῦτον αὐτῷ περιῆν ὥστε τὸν Eotebaνωμένον ἄρχοντα διέφθειρεν, τοὺς χορηγοὺς συνῆγεν ἐπ' ἐμέ, βοῶν, ἀπειλῶν, ὀμνύουσι παρεστηκὼς τοῖς κριταῖς, . καὶ τούτων, doa γ᾽ ἐν τῷ δήμῳ γέγον᾽ À πρὸς

528

WOLFGANG

SCHULLER & MARTIN

DREHER

τοῖς κριταῖς ἐν τῷ θεάτρῳ, ὑμεῖς ἐστέ μοι μάρτυρες πάντες, ἄνδρες δικασταί. .. προδιαφθείρας τοίνυν τοὺς κριτὰς τῷ ἀγῶνι τῶν ἀνδρῶν, δύο ταῦθ' ὡσπερεὶ κεφάλαι' ἐφ᾽ ἅπασι τοῖς ἑαυτῷ νενεανιευμένοις ἐπέθηκεν, ἐμοῦ μὲν ὕβρισεν τὸ σῶμα, τῇ φυλῇ δὲ κρατούσῃ τὸν ἀγῶν᾽ αἰτιώτατος τοῦ μὴ νικῆσαι κατέστη... οὔτε

καλουμένων τῶν κριτῶν παρεστηκότα, οὔθ᾽ ὅταν ὀμνύωσιν ἑξορκοῦντα. “Und sein Ubermut hörte nicht dabei auf, sondern beherrschte ihn so, daß er sogar den bekranzten

Archon

bestach,

die anderen

Choregen

gegen

mich

aufhetzte und schreiend und drohend neben den Preisrichtern stand, als diese ihren Eid leisteten, ... Und fiir diese Freveltaten, die in der Volksversammlung

oder gegeniiber den Preisrichtern im Theater begangen wurden, seid ihr alle meine Zeugen, ihr Richter. ... Nachdem kampf der Männer(chöre)

er schon die Preisrichter im Wett-

korrumpiert hatte, setzte er allen seinen früheren

Taten durch zwei Frevel die Krone auf: er griff mich tätlich an, und er war schuld daran, daß meine Phyle, die dabei war zu gewinnen, doch nicht den Sieg davontrug ... weder neben den Preisrichtern stehend, wenn sie aufgerufen werden, noch ihnen, wenn sie vereidigt werden, den Eid vorsprechend.”

Daraus ergibt sich: 1. Die Preisrichter werden aufgerufen; 2. sie schwören da-

nach einen Eid.'” Nicht ergibt sich, welcher Vorgang das Aufrufen bestimmter Preisrichter ermöglicht. d) Plut. Cim. 8.71. ἔθεντο δ' εἰς μνήμην αὐτοῦ καὶ τὴν τῶν τραγῳδῶν κρίσιν ὀνομαστὴν γενομένην. πρώτην γὰρ διδασκαλίαν τοῦ Σοφοκλέους ἔτι νέου καθέντος, ᾿Αψεφίων ὁ ἄρχων, φιλονικίας οὔσης καὶ παρατάξεως τῶν θεατῶν, κριτὰς μὲν οὐκ ἐκλήρωσε τοῦ ἀγῶνος, ὡς δὲ Κίμων μετὰ τῶν συστρατήγων παρελθὼν εἰς τὸ θέατρον ἐποιήσατο τῷ θεῷ τὰς νενομισμένας σπονδάς, οὐκ ἐφῆκεν αὐτοὺς ἀπελθεῖν, ἀλλ᾽ ὁρκώσας ἠνάγκασε καθίσαι καὶ κρῖναι δέκα ὄντας, ἀπὸ φυλῆς μιᾶς ἕκαστον. “Man

behielt ihn (sc. Kimon)

auch im Gedächtnis

wegen

seiner berühmt

gewordenen Entscheidung bei den Tragödienaufführungen. Als der noch junge

Sophokles zum ersten Mal teilnahm, führte der Archon Apsephion, weil die Aufregung

und

die

Rivalität

unter

Erlosung der Preisrichter durch,

den

sondern

strategen das Theater betrat und dem

Zuschauern

sehr

ließ, als Kimon

groß

war,

keine

mit seinen Mit-

Gott die üblichen Opfer darbrachte,

diese nicht wieder gehen, sondern vereidigte sie und nötigte sie, die Beurteilung vorzunehmen, da sie auch gerade zehn Männer waren, aus jeder Phyle einer.”

Daraus ergibt sich: 1. Die Preisrichter werden nach Phylen eingesetzt; 2. pro Phyle

amtiert

ein Preisrichter,

es sind also insgesamt

(normalerweise) ausgelost und, wohl en bloc, vereidigt.

zehn;

3. sie werden

AUSWAHL UND BEWERTUNG

Methodisch

ist es wohl

VON DRAMATISCHEN

erlaubt,

AUFFUHRUNGEN

die drei einigermaßen

529

zeitgenössischen

Quellenstellen zu kombinieren und Plutarch hinzuzunehmen, der offensichtlich eine normale, allen bekannte Praxis voraussetzt. Diese Kombination ergibt: Es werden Preisrichter vorgeschlagen, aber die Frage ist, wie und durch wen sie dann auch wirklich Preisrichter werden, das ist undeutlich. Da es der Rat ist,

der die Namen in Hydrien legt, kann man immerhin schließen, daß alle Kandidaten auch von ihm bestimmt werden, aber ob alle Vorgeschlagenen automatisch in die Hydrien kommen,

oder ob es ein Auswahl- oder Auslosever-

fahren gibt und welches, erfahren wir nicht.”” Wenn die Namen, wie es scheint,

in der Folgezeit noch geheim bleiben, dann kann in der Bule über die Vorschläge nicht verhandelt worden sein, sonst wären sie bekannt. Unsicher ist daher auch, ob mehrere Namen in je eine - nach Phylen gekennzeichnete — Hydria kommen, oder ob jetzt schon pro Hydria und pro Phyle ein einziger Preisrichter bestimmt wird, wobei dann für jeden Agon eine eigene Hydria bereitstehen müßte. Diese letztere Möglichkeit ist freilich eher unwahrscheinlich, weil beim späteren Ausrufen im Theater mit der Möglichkeit gerechnet werden muß, daß der Betreffende, der von seinem Kandidatenstatus vielleicht

nur inoffiziell durch die ihn Vorschlagenden weiß, gar nicht anwesend oder inzwischen ausgefallen ist; schon aus diesem Grund empfiehlt es sich, mehrere Kandidaten zu haben.?' Die Hydrien werden von den Prytanen beschriftet, von

den Choregen versiegelt und auf der Akropolis von den Tamiai bewacht.” Was dann geschieht, ist wieder unklar. Einzig daraus, daß der Archon die Leitung des Agons (der Dionysien) hat, kann man entnehmen, daß ihm auch das weitere Verfahren anvertraut ist. Hier greift die Demosthenes-Stelle ($ 65)

ein, die sagt, daß die Preisrichter aufgerufen werden. Daraus sowie aus dem Umstand, daß die Hydrien höchstwahrscheinlich in versiegelten Zustand ins

Theater gebracht und erst unmittelbar vor den Aufführungen geöffnet wurden, ergibt sich, daß die endgültigen Preisrichter bis jetzt noch unbekannt sind. Nach dem Öffnen der Hydrien gibt es zwei Möglichkeiten. Entweder enthält

jede nur einen Namen, dann wird der jeweilige Preisrichter laut ausgerufen und kommt

nach vorne.

Oder, wahrscheinlicher,

es findet unter mehreren

Namen ein Losverfahren statt - das möglicherweise einfach darin besteht, daß

der Archon selber wahllos in die Urne greift -, und die nun Erlosten werden vom Archon ausgerufen und kommen nach vorne. Pro Phyle ist es einer, und das sind jetzt die zehn Preisrichter über die Stücke (bzw. Dithyramben), die

aufgeführt werden. Die Preisrichter werden vereidigt. 3. Zum Urteilsvorgang muß zum einen die oben (2. b) zitierte Lysias-Stelle

herangezogen werden, aus der sich ergibt, daß ein Preisrichter zwar (schriftlich) abstimmen kann, daß seine Stimme aber möglicherweise nicht zum Zuge kommt. Das bedeutet logischerweise, daß zwar alle Preisrichter ihre Meinung

530

WOLFGANG SCHULLER & MARTIN DREHER

auf ein Tafelchen schreiben, daß aber nur ein Teil dieser Täfelchen gewertet

wird. Wie soll dieser Vorgang aussehen ? Zu dieser Frage sind zunächst zwei zeitgenössische Komikeraussagen heran-

zuziehen, die beide aus dem Oxyrhynchos-Papyrus 1611 entnommen werden

konnten.’ Der dortige Text lautet in seinem hier einschlägigen Teil so: [~Jov νῦν σ. ὁρᾶις ἡμᾶς δύ᾽ ὄντας, tétta/p[ak καὶ τοὺς κριτὰς. δῆλον οὕτως τετταράϊκοντα' Λύσιππος & ἐν Βάκχαις €‘, ὁμοίως δὲ / καὶ Κρατῖνος ἐν Πλούτοις

λέγει. Demgemäß

sprachen

sowohl

Kratinos

(F 177 PCG)

als auch Lysipp

(F 7

PCG) von fünf Preisrichtern,”* und diese Zahl erscheint dann auch in späteren lexikographischen Quellen: Zenob. 3,64: ἐν πέντε κριτῶν γούνασι κεῖται: παροιμιῶδες, οἷον “ἐν ἀλλοτρίᾳ ἐξουσίᾳ éativ”εἴρηται δὲ ἡ παροιμία, παρόσον πέντε κριταὶ τοὺς κωμικοὺς ἔκρινον, ὧς φησιν ᾿Επίχαρμος (F 229 Kaibel). “Im Schoß von fünf Richtern liegt (die Entscheidung): sprichwörtlich für: es

liegt in fremder Macht. Das Sprichwort wurde verwendet, insofern fünf Preisrichter über die Komödiendichter entschieden, wie Epicharmos sagt.” Hesych. s.v. πέντε κριταί: τοσοῦτοι τοὺς κωμικοὺς ἔκρινον, οὐ μόνον ᾿Αθήνησιν ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐν Σικελίᾳ. “fünf Preisrichter: diese entschieden über die Komödiendichter, nicht nur in Athen, sondern auch in Sizilien.”

Schol. Ar. Av. 445: «". ἔκρινον κριταὶ τοὺς κωμικοὺς, οἱ δὲ λαμβάνοντες τὰς €’ ψήφους εὐδαιμόνουν.

“Es entschieden fiinf(?)” Preisrichter über die Komödiendichter; diese waren glücklich, wenn sie die fünf Stimmen erhielten.” Die meisten Interpreten haben sich überwiegend

auf die lexikographischen

Quellen gestützt und aus ihnen in Verbindung mit der Lysias-Stelle geschlossen, daß die Preisrichter ihre Täfelchen zwar abgeben, das heißt wohl in eine Urne werfen, daß aber der Archon nur fünf herauszieht, und daß deren Urteil

dann das endgültige ist.* Dabei wurde versäumt nachzurechnen, ob ein solches Verfahren überhaupt zu einem genauen Urteil führen kann, und außerdem blieb folgende Lukian-Stelle unerklärt:

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2:

καὶ γὰρ οὖν ἐν τοῖς ἀγῶσιν οἱ μὲν πολλοὶ θεαταὶ ἴσασι κροτῆσαί ποτε καὶ συρίσαι, κρίνουσι δ' ἑπτὰ ἢ πέντε ἢ ὅσοι δή.

“Denn bei den Wettbewerben weiß die Menge zu applaudieren und zu pfeifen, die Entscheidung aber treffen sieben oder fünf oder wie viele Preisrichter auch immer.

Maurice Pope hat Lukian einbezogen und die Auszählungsverfahren durch-

gerechnet.”’ Er hat argumentiert, daß die Berücksichtigung von lediglich fünf Preisrichterstimmen ebenso leicht zu einer Patt-Situation wie bei zehn Stim-

men und außerdem zu nicht akzeptablen Verzerrungen führe, und daß die Athener zahlreiche Amtskollegien mit zehn, aber keines mit fünf Mitgliedern kennten. Daraus und aus der Lukian-Stelle hat er geschlossen, daß die Mög-

lichkeit gegeben sein müsse, mehr Preisrichterstimmen heranzuziehen. Aufder anderen Seite muß die auf Grund der zeitgenössischen Lysias-Stelle reale Möglichkeit erhalten bleiben, daß ein Preisrichter mit seiner Stimme

nicht

berücksichtigt wird. Daraus schloß Pope, daß der Archon nicht immer nur fünf, sondern so viele Voten aus der Urne nimmt, bis ein Wettbewerber fünf

Stimmen auf sich vereinigt, was die Regel gewesen sei. Hierzu passe die Lukian-Stelle vorzüglich, weil sie von einer unbestimmten Anzahl von Stimmen spricht. Für den Fall, daß kein Wettbewerber fünf Stimmen erhält, hat Pope angenommen, daß die relative Mehrheit der Voten, von denen dann im Extremfall alle zehn gezogen werden müssen, entscheidet. Genauso gut wäre aber möglich, daß zehn Preisrichter noch einmal abstimmen. Ebenso spekulativ bleiben Popes Vorstellungen, wie beim Verfehlen auch der relativen Mehr-

heit verfahren wird. Hingegen hat Pope sicher zu Recht vorausgesetzt, daß jeder Preisrichter jeweils nur einen Wettbewerber als gewünschten Sieger auf sein Täfelchen schreibt, und daß daher für jeden weiteren Siegesplatz eine

neue Abstimmung stattfinden muß.”” In der früheren Forschung hat man offenbar eher angenommen, jeder Preisrichter habe mehrere Wettbewerber in

der gewünschten Plazierung aufgeschrieben.” Daß daraus niemand ein überzeugendes Gesamtergebnis hätte errechnen können, liegt aber auf der Hand. Nun

hat Pope

die beiden

zeitgenössischen

Komikerfragmente

nicht be-

rücksichtigt, die dezidiert von fünf und nur von fünf Preisrichtern sprechen,

Das müssen sie so unzweideutig getan haben, daß ihr Zeugnis schon in der römischen Kaiserzeit zwar ein Problem darstellte, an dem man herumratselte,

aber doch als authentisch hingenommen wurde. Das folgt zum einen aus dem um die Wende vom 2. zum 3. Jh. zu datierenden Papyrus, dem die Zeugnisse entstammen und der ein Bruchstück aus einer Schrift über ἀπορίαι darstellt,’

532

WOLFGANG

SCHULLER & MARTIN DREHER

also über unlösbare Probleme. Das folgt aber auch aus der Lukian-Stelle. Sie steht in einem kurzen Text, in welchem ein Flötenspieler jemand anders um Rat fragt, wie er berühmt werden könne. In der Antwort heißt es, zwar würden die Zuhörer Beifall spenden, aber das Urteil - auf das es allein ankomme

-

fallten eben “sieben oder fünf oder wieviele Richter auch immer”. Diese Aussage

betrifft

kaiserzeitliche

Wettbewerbe,

die ja in der ganzen

griechisch

sprechenden Welt stattfanden — wie offenbar schon zur Alexanderzeit -, und bei denen nun wirklich sieben oder fünf oder wieviele Richter auch immer das

Preisrichtergremium stellten, je nach Anlage des Wettbewerbs.’ Ein Bezug auf das Athen

des 5. Jahrhunderts

fehlt, ebenso darauf, daß eine die Fünfzahl

überschreitende Anzahl der Richter durch ein sozusagen sukzessives Abstimmungsverfahren zustandekornmen würde. Hätte es dieses Verfahren gegeben, dann

hätte sich Lukian

anders

ausgedrückt,

und

vor allem hätte es keine

ἀπορίαι gegeben, über die der Verfasser des POxy 1611 hätte rätseln müssen. Denn die Fünfzahl der Preisrichter steht nach dem Befund der Quellen zwar fest, ungelöst ist aber das Problem, wie man bei zur fünf Richtern zu einem eindeutigen

Ergebnis

kommen

konnte.

Von

der

Sache

her soll gar nicht

geleugnet werden, daß es sinnvoll gewesen ist, über diese Fünfzahl hinauszugehen, indem der leitende Beamte bis zum Erreichen eines Ergebnisses Täfelchen aus der Urne zog.” Freilich kann darüber keine Sicherheit bestehen,”* und vor allem verträgt sich eine solche Annahme

nicht mit dem klaren zeit-

genössischen Quellenbefund. Eine Lösung, die zwar durch die Quellen nicht belegt ist, ihnen aber auch

nicht widerspricht, schlägt Antonis Tsakmakis vor:” “Wenn tatsächlich nur fünf von zehn Stimmen gerechnet wurden, und wenn so viel dem Zufall überlassen wurde,

eine Pattsituation aber unbedingt vermieden werden

mußte,

warum darf man nicht annehmen, daß auch die Reihenfolge, mit der die Stimmen gezogen wurden, eine Rolle spielte? Z.B. bei fünf Stimmen ABCC B wäre B der Sieger; bei BC A BB ware C Zweiter.” Wir halten diese Lösung für bedenkenswert, sie müßte freilich noch durch Parallelen abgesichert werden. Vorläufig

allerdings wird man

sagen

müssen,

daß

bei der gegebenen

Quellenlage ein glatt aufgehendes Ergebnis nicht vorgelegt werden kann, daß also auch wir uns zu einer ἀπορία bekennen müssen. Sicher ist aber zweierlei, und das dürfte für eine Gesamtbeurteilung des Verfahrens hinreichen: Von den zehn abgegebenen Stimmen wurden nur fünfberücksichtigt, so daß zum einen

kein Preisrichter haftbar gemacht werden konnte und zum anderen der Zufall eine Rolle spielte und womöglich auch spielen sollte.

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II. Zusammenfassung des Verfahrens Im vorigen sind die Vorgänge folgendermaßen rekonstruiert worden: Der Archon (bzw. der Basileus) wählte in eigener Zuständigkeit die Srücke aus, die

aufgeführt werden sollten; möglicherweise halfen ihm die von ihm ausgewählten Paredroi dabei, wenn

er seinem Sachverstand nicht traute. Jedes Stück

bzw. jeder Dichter erhielt einen der schon vorher unter einem Choregen gebildeten Chor. Die Preisrichter wurden, nach Vorschlägen, über die weiter nichts bekannt ist, wohl vom

Rat bestellt, in einer Weise, die ebenfalls un-

bekannt ist; wahrscheinlich wurden pro Phyle und pro Agon mehrere (potentielle) Preisrichter bestellt. Deren Namen kamen in versiegelte Hydrien, wurden also bis zum Zeitpunkt der Aufführung geheimgehalten. Die Hydrien wurden auf der Akropolis aufbewahrt und von den Tamiai bewacht. Vor der

Aufführung kamen sie ins Theater und wurden, gewiß vom Archon, geöffnet. Der Archon zog aus jeder Urne einen Namen heraus; der so Bestimmte wurde laut ausgerufen,

kam

nach vorne und wurde,

zusammen

mit den anderen

Erlosten, als Preisrichter vereidigt. Nach den Aufführungen schrieb jeder der

zehn Preisrichter seine Bewertung

auf eine Tafel; ste kam wahrscheinlich

wieder in eine Urne. Der Archon zog fünf Tafeln heraus, durch welche die Rangfolge der Sieger bestimmt wurde. Unklar bleibt, wie bei Pattsituationen verfahren wurde.

IV. Wertung

Selbst wenn man die ungeklärten Teile des Verfahrens offen läßt, ergeben sich bei dem, was feststeht, erhebliche Abweichungen von den üblichen Prozeduren der athenischen Demokratie. Daß die Auswahl der Stücke dem Belieben eines

einzelnen Amtsträgers überlassen blieb, ist völlig ungewöhnlich. Man fragt sich, warum das so war. Zwar sieht es so aus, als hätten die Quellen darin kein

Problem gesehen, aber das verstärkt eigentlich noch den Eindruck des Außerordentlichen. Auf gar keinen Fall liegt die Erklärung darin, daß die Athener die Sache nicht wichtig genommen hätten, das Gegenteil dürfte der Fall sein. Wir sehen zwei Erklärungen, ausschließen, sondern

die sich nicht nur nicht gegenseitig

gut zueinander passen.

Erstens handelte es sich um

Vorgänge innerhalb eines Kultes, die eine lange Geschichte hatten und die man nicht ändern wollte. Zweitens bestand möglicherweise die Vorstellung, daß künstlerische Dinge nicht in jeder Hinsicht durch Abstimmungen demokratisch besetzter Gremien entschieden werden könnten, sondern daß man, zumindest in einer ersten Phase des Verfahrens, auch dem Urteilsvermögen

434

WOLFGANG

SCHULLER ἃ MARTIN

DREHER

eines einzelnen vertrauen müsse und könne; die Paredroi könnten ein Korrektiv für die Entscheidungen des Archon gewesen sein.

Bei der Preisrichterbestellung fällt zunächst eine gewisse Parallele zur Auslosung der Richter der Dikasterien auf. Auch das war ein auf Losungen ge-

bautes kompliziertes, aber doch glasklares Verfahren, das genau an dem Zweck ausgerichtet war, den man erreichen wollte. Dieser Zweck war, daß bis zur letzten Minute vor Verhandlungsbeginn unklar sein sollte, wer nun wirklich Richter und

für welchen

Prozeß

er es wurde.

Mogens

Hansen

hat die hi-

storische Entwicklung dieses Verfahrens nachgezeichnet;” für die Bestellung

der Preisrichter können wir eine solche Entwicklung nicht eruieren. Wir fragen weiter unten nach dem Zweck, der mit dem Verfahren für Preisrichter verfolgt worden sein könnte. Weiter fällt auf, daß Vorschläge gemacht werden konnten; allerdings wohl keine öffentlichen wie bei der Besetzung öffentlicher Ämter, sonst wäre die

Geheimhaltung der schließlich bestimmten Preisrichter sinnlos gewesen. Der Grund

liegt möglicherweise

ebenfalls in der Natur der Aufgabe

richter; durch die Vorschlagsmöglichkeit künstlerischer Sachverstand zum

der Preis-

sollte dafür gesorgt werden, daß

Zuge kam; daß dabei freilich auch andere

Interessen verfolgt werden konnten, nämlich die Bestellung von Preisrichtern, die, im Fall der Dithyramben der Phyle, im Fall der Stücke dem Lieblings-

dichter der Vorschlagenden wohlgesonnen waren, zeigt die Lysias-Stelle. Die Aufgabe wurde sehr wichtig genommen, was aus der Mehrstufigkeit des Verfahrens und aus der Geheimhaltung der Kandidatennamen folgt. Dies geschah wohl deshalb, um Druck auf die Preisrichter zu vermeiden; darin dürfte auch der Grund für die hohe Strafe liegen, die für eine Verletzung angedroht war;

freilich spielte hierfür auch der besondere Schutz des kultischen Bereichs eine Rolle.

Das Abstimmungsverfahren schließlich ist das Ungewöhnlichste des gesamten Vorgangs und unterscheidet sich signifikant von der Abstimmung vor

Gericht. Während es dort um eine einfache Alternative im wörtlichen Sinne einer Entscheidung

zwischen zwei Möglichkeiten

ging, stellte sich hier die

komplexe Aufgabe, mehrere Teilnehmer am Wettbewerb in eine Reihenfolge

zu bringen.

Dem

Nacheinander-Auftreten

Nacheinander-Ziehen

und

Verkünden

der Teilnehmer

der Preisrichter-Voten.

entsprach

das

Dieses Ver-

fahren erhöhte die Spannung für die Zuschauer — vergessen wir nicht, daß das ganze eine Aufführung war und den Charakter eines Wettspiels hatte.

Bei der Entscheidung über die Reihenfolge hätte das von Pope vorgeschlagene Verfahren in den Fällen, in denen einer von drei, fünf oder zehn

Wettbewerbern fünf Stimmen erhielt, auch eine absolute Mehrheit für den Sieger erbracht. Allerdings konnte bei den Lenäen, an denen nur zwei Tra-

AUSWAHL UND BEWERTUNG VON DRAMATISCHEN AUFFUHRUNGEN

535

gödien aufgeführt werden, jede davon fünf Stimmen auf sich vereinigen, und es blieb dem Zufall überlassen, für welche die fünfte Stimme zuerst ans Licht kam.

Die Abstimmung

konnte von 5:0 bis 5:4 enden.

Wenn

also auch der

göttlichen Tyche ein gewisser Einfluß belassen wurde, dann sicher aufgrund des kultischen Charakters der Wettkampfe: Alle Teilnehmer waren zu Ehren

der Gottheit an- und aufgetreten;

zwar wurde

dann

festgelegt, wer diese

Aufgabe am besten erfüllt hatte, aber keiner war im Sinne einer Gerichtsent-

scheidung im Unrecht und daher Verlierer. Es erschien den Athenern daher nicht nötig, wie vor Gericht alle menschlichen Möglichkeiten zur Findung

einer gerechten Entscheidung aufzubieten.” Ob - wie nach den zeitgenössischen Quellen anzunehrnen - regelmäßig fünf Preisrichter oder ob eine unbestimmte Anzahl unter zehn, in jedem Fall war

im System vorgesehen, daß nach Möglichkeit nicht alle Stimmen gewertet wurden. Unsere Erklärung fragt, ähnlich wie im Fall der Dikastenlosung, nach dem Zweck und kommt zu folgenden Erwägungen. Schon aus der Geheimhal-

tung der Preisrichter geht hervor, daß die gesamte Angelegenheit ungeheuer wichtig genommen

wurde

und

Einflußnahmen

verhindert

werden

sollten,

wahrscheinlich deshalb, weil in vielerlei Beziehung starke Emotionen im Spiel waren: bei den Dithyramben der Sieg der jeweiligen Phyle, bei den Theaterstücken

der

Sieg

der

jeweils

verehrten

Dichter.

Bei

einem

Verfahren,

in

welchem nicht alle Stimmen gewertet wurden, war nicht zu kontrollieren, wie gestimmt worden war. Jeder Preisrichter konnte gegenüber einer unterlegenen

Interessengruppe behaupten, seine, in deren Sinn abgegebene Stimme, sei gerade unter den nicht gewerteten gewesen — genau das hat der Preisrichter der Lysias-Stelle getan. Zu kontrollieren war das nicht, sofern die nicht gezogenen Täfelchen sofort vernichtet wurden. Wenn immer alle Stimmen herangezogen

worden wären, hätten sich bei Einstimmigkeit unangenehme Situationen ergeben können. Somit minderte das praktizierte Verfahren den Druck, der auf die Preisrichter ausgeübt werden konnte. Das entspricht nun vollkommen der

sonstigen geheimen Abstimmung mit Psephoi. Bei diesen war die Geheimhaltung einfach, weil es nur um die Frage ja — nein ging; bei einer Reihung mußte man sich Komplizierteres und gleichzeitig leicht zu Handhabendes ausdenken. Das ist hier der Fall.

Unter Zugrundelegung der bisherigen Interpretation kann auch die nachträgliche Beurteilung der Preisrichter, von der Aischines (3,232) spricht, nur in einem Sinne verstanden werden. Wenn er sagt: καὶ τοὺς μὲν κριτὰς τοὺς ἐκ τῶν Διονυσίων, ἐὰν μὴ δικαίως τοὺς κυκλίους χόρους κρίνωσιν, ζημιοῦτε (“Und die Preisrichter bei den Dionysien bestraft ihr, wenn sie die kyklischen Chöre nicht gerecht beurteilen”),

dann

kann

sich diese Beurteilung

nicht auf das Ab-

stimmungsergebnis beziehen, sondern nur auf Vergehen, die bei der Auswahl

536

WOLFGANG

SCHULLER & MARTIN

DREHER

und Vereidigung der Preisrichter vorgekommen sind, wie etwa deren unzulässige Beeinflussung, die Demosthenes an der oben zitierten Stelle dem Meidias vorwirft. Wir kommen also zu dem Schluß, daß die seltsamen Abweichungen von den

sonst gängigen Prozeduren teils mit überkommenen kultischen Verfahren zu erklären

sind,

vor allem

aber mit

den

Produktion zu tun hatten. Mogens

Besonderheiten

von

künstlerischer

Hansen hat gezeigt, in weich eindrucks-

vollem Maße die Athener des 4. Jahrhunderts fähig waren, ihre Demokratie

mit Augenmaß in eine Form zu bringen, die bei völliger Wahrung des demokratischen Charakters der Verfassung diese Verfassung stabiler und handhabbarer machte. beigebracht

Wir hoffen, eine kleine Parallele auf einem

zu

haben.

Sie

zeigt,

daß

die

Athener

es

anderen

Gebiet

verstanden

haben,

Eigengesetzlichkeiten der Dichtung und des Theaters dadurch zu berücksichtigen,

daß

sie bei

der Auswahl

und

Beurteilung

von

Theaterstücken

und

Dithyramben ihre demokratischen Verfahren in ingeniöser Weise variierten.™

BIBLIOGRAPHIE Arrighetti, G. 1968. “Il POx XIII 161 1: alcuni problemi di erudizione antica,” SCO

17:

76-98.

Arighetti, G. 1971-74. “Il papiro di Ossirinco n. 1611

e il numero dei giudici negli agoni,”

Dioniso 45: 302-308.

Csapo, E. & Slater, W. 1995. The Context of Ancient Drama (Ann Arbor). Hamilton, J.R. 1969. Plutarch Alexander. A Commentary (Oxford). Hansen, M.H. 1983. Ininanve und Entscheidung (Konstanz). Hansen, M.H. 1995. Die Athenische Demokrane im Zeitalter des Demosthenes (Berlin). Harmison, A.R.W. 1971. The Law of Athens II (Oxford). Hermann, G. 1839. De quinque iudicibus poetarum , in: Opuscula 7: 88-96 (Leipzig); orig. 1834. Kapparis, K.A. 1998. “Assessors of Magistrates (Paredroi) in Classical Athens,” Historia 47: 383-393. Kassel, R. 1991. Kleine Schriften (Berlin & New York). Kolb, F. 1979. “Polis und Theater,” in G.A. Seeck (Hg.), Das griechische Drama (Darmstadt) 504-545.

MacDowell, D.M. 1990a. “Athenian Laws About Choruses,” Symposion 1982, hg. v. F.J. Nieto (Köln & Wien) 65-77. MacDowell, D.M. 1990b. Demosthenes. Against Meidias (Oranon 21) (Oxford). MacDowell, D.M. 1995. Aristophanes and Athens. An Introduction τὸ the Plays (Oxford). Meier, Ch. 1988. Die polinsche Kunst der griechischen Tragödie (München). Newiger, H.-J. 1996. Drama und Theater. Ausgewählte Schriften zum griechischen Drama (Stuttgart). Olsen, S.D. 1996. “Aristophanes, Equites 947-959 and the Athenian Public Seal,” ZPE 113: 253f.

Petersen, E. 1878. Über die Preisrichter der Grossen Dionysien zu Athen, Progr. (Dorpat) 1-25.

AUSWAHL UND BEWERTUNG VON DRAMATISCHEN AUFFUHRUNGEN

537

Pickard-Cambridge, A. 1988. The Dramatic Festivals of Athens’ (Oxford). Pope,

M.

1986.

“Athenian

Festival Judges — Seven,

Five, or However

Many?”

CQ

36:

322-326. Pope, M.

1989. “Upon the Country-Juries and the Principle of Random Selection,” Social

Science Information 28.2: 265-289. Rosen, R.M. 1989. “Trouble in the Early Career of Plato Comicus: P.Oxy. 2737.44-51 (PCG IN 2, 590),” ZPE 76: 223-228.

Another

Look

at

Rösler, W. 1980. Polis und Tragödie. Funktionsgeschichtliche Betrachtungen zu einer antiken Literaturgattung (Konstanz). Sauppe, H. 1855. “Die Wahl der Richter in den musischen Wettkimpfen an den Dionysien,” Berichte über die Verhandlungen der K. Sachs. Ges. ἃ. Wiss. zu Leipzig, Classe VII: 1-22. Schuller, W.

1993. “Die Polis als Staat,” CPCAcss

1: 106-128.

Schuller, W. 1997. “Zur Bauplanung der atuschen Demokratie des 5. Jahrhunderts,” in W. Hoepfner (Hg.), Kult und Kultbauten auf der Akropolis, Internationales Symposion vom

7. bis 9. Juli 1995 in Berlin (Berlin) 184-194. Sommerstein, A.H. er al. (Hgg.). 1993. Tragedy, Comedy and the Polis (Bari). Winkler, J.J. & Zeitlin, F.I. (Hgg.). 1990. Nothing to do with Dionysos? (Princeton).

ANMERKUNGEN

1.

Hansen (1995) passim.

2.

Schuller (1997) 1846f.

3.

Die letzten zusammenfassenden Darstellungen sind Pickard-Cambridge (1968) 57ff., bes. 958. sowie die das ganze antike Drama betreffende, kurz kommentierende Quellensammlung in

englischer Übersetzung Csapo & Slater (1995) bes. 103ff. Vorläufige Überlegungen, speziell zu den Verfahren einschließlich denen, die das Theater betreffen, bei Schuller (1993). 4

5.

Vgl. dazu die folgende ausgewählte allgemeine Literatur: Kolb (1979) 504ff.; Rösler (1980); Meier (1988); Winkler & Zeitlin (1990); Sommerstein er al. (1993). Vgl. zum Verfahren H.-J.

Newiger: “Ein kompliziert gewähltes Kollegium von zehn Richtern traf die Entscheidung”, in ders. (1996) 16 (zuerst 1979) sowie die Quellenübersicht bei Csapo & Sister (1995) 143-146.157-165.414f. Vgl. dazu die Bemerkung in Plut. Alex. 29,2, daß in Athen die Choregen phylenweise erlost würden (κληρούμενοι κατὰ φυλάς); Hamilton (1969) bemerkt dazu nichts Weiterführendes. Die

angenommene Erlosung könnte Plutarch irrtümlicherweise von anderen athenischen Ämtern auf die Choregen übertragen haben. 6. 7. 8.

9. 10.

Vgl. MacDowell (19908) 66. Dem. 21,13 referiert ein Gesetz, nach dem in der Volksversammlung die Choregen der dithyrambischen Chöre die Flötisten in einer erlosten Reihenfolge auswählen durften. χορὸν αἰτεῖν: Ar. Eg. 513; Kratin. F 17 PCG. χορὸν διδόναι: Ar. F 590 PCG; Kratin. a.a.O.; Arist. Poet. 1449b1f.; Pl. Resp. 383C; Leg. 817CD. χορὸν λαβεῖν: Ar. Ran. 94; Krann. F 20 PCG. χορὸν ἔχειν: Ar. Pax 801. 807; Kratin. F 276 PCG. PI. Leg. 817D. Vgl. Pickard-Cambridge (1968) 84. Aus Ar. F 590 (PCG; Z.48-51 von P.Oxy. 2737) hat man zu Unrecht die Qualifikationsregel herausgelesen, daß sich ein Dichter, der bei den Dionysien nur einen schlechten (hier den vierten)

Platz belegte, im nächsten Jahr nicht wieder für dasselbe Fest bewerben durfte. Gegen die These s. zuletzt Rosen

(1989),

mit der früheren

Literatur.

Entscheidend

ist dabei, daß wir aus der

Nachricht keine allgemeine Regel ableiten können. Desungeachtet mag es in diesem und in anderen Fällen durchaus so gewesen sein, daß ein Archon die schlechte Plazierung eines Dichters zum Anlaß nahm, ihn im Folgejahr nicht wieder zu berücksichtigen, ebenso wie umgekehrt der

538

WOLFGANG

SCHULLER & MARTIN

DREHER

Erfolg eines Autors ein Kriterium für seine Wiederzulassung gewesen sein wird. Leider ist die Papyrus-Stelle nicht erhalten, an der anscheinend Kriterien für die Auswahl von Srücken genannt wurden: &xpfjv χορὸν)

11. 12. 13. 14.

[διδόντας τὸν ἐπὶ Ληναίίωι) oxorefifv —

(Z.27£.), vgl. Rosen 227.

Daß freilich das athenische Publikum generell ungewöhnlich aufgeschlossen war, betont mit Recht Kassel (1991) 179f. Kratin. F 17 und 20 PCG. Pickard-Cambridge Vgl. [Dem.]

(1968) 98.

59,81: διὰ τὴν ἀπειρίαν τῶν πραγμάτων καὶ τὴν ἀκακίαν τὴν ἑαυτοῦ τοῦτον πάρεδρον

ποιήσαιτο, ἵνα διοικήσῃ τὴν ἀρχὴν. Vgl. auch die Parallele des ἐπιμελητὴς τῶν παίδων bei Pl. Leg. 813 C/D. Zu den Paredroi vgl. zuletet Kapparis (1998) bes. 386f. (zur Kompetenz) und 389. (zu ihrer Mitwirkung bei den Festen); von ihrer möglichen Mitwirkung bei der Auswahl der dramatischen Stücke ist bei Kapparis nicht die Rede. 15.

Mit

der

hier

vermuteten

Funktion

der

Paredroi

stimmt

gut

überein,

daß

auch

bekannte

athenische Persönlichkeiten das Amt innehatten und daß das Amt sogar verkauft wurde, vgl. Harrison (1971) 11f. 16.

Hansen (1983) 13 (Arist. Pol. 1298228-32; 1317b628-31; 129963840).

11.

Zu diesem und dem unter 3. (Urteilsfindung) behandelten Problem gab es bereits im vergangenen Jahrhundert eine gelehrte Diskussion, aus der wir lediglich folgende spezifische Arbeiten herausheben wollen: Hermann (1839) 88-96 (orig. 1834); Sauppe (1855) 1ff.; Petersen

(1878)

1-25.

allgemeinen,

Auf eine nähere Auseinandersetzung sei es, weil sich zu

einigen

damals

mit diesen Arbeiten verzichten

umstrittenen

Punkten

inzwischen

wir ım eine gut

begründete opimio commumis durchgesetzt hat, sei es, weil dort andere Einzelheiten diskutiert wurden, die hier nicht im Vordergrund stehen. Nur die Arbeit von Petersen, die zu Beginn zahlreiche

Textstellen

zusammenstellt

(5.4. 8), wird

mehrmals

zu nennen

sein, weil

sie die

späteren Ansichten wesentlich geprägt hat. 18.

Trotz Olsen (1996) 253f. doch wohl so zu übersetzen.

19. 20.

Zum Verständnis der Beeinflussung des Meidias vgl. MacDowell

21.

Vgl. auch die aus der Isokrates-Stelle gewonnenen Argumente von Petersen (1378) 20f., für eine

(1990b) ad loc.

Pickard-Cambridge {1968} 96 spricht merkwürdigerweise von einer durch den Rat zusammengestellten Liste. Mehrzahl von Kandidaten; ebd. 21f. wird zu Recht angenommen, daß pro Phyle nur eine Ume

für alle Agone und nicht für jeden Agon eine eigene Ume verwendet wurde. 22.

Nach Pickard-Cambridge (1968) 96f., harten die Choregen auch bei der Auswahl der Preisrichter mitzuentscheiden und versiegelten die Urnen gemeinsam mit den Prytanen. Auch wenn das die

Sache nicht genau trifft und die Choregen nur die Versiegelung vornahmen, so ist doch auffällig, daß sie die einzigen waren, die an dem ganzen Vorgang teilnahmen, ohne Amtstrager zu sein.

Daß sie als letztlich auch Beurteilte an der Bestellung der Urteilenden mitwirkten, kann nur an ihrer Funktion als Geldgeber liegen, wegen der ihnen ein besonderes Interesse an einer fairen Beurteilung zuerkannt wurde.

23.

P.Oxy

1611, fr.1 col. II 30-37, vgl. Arigherti (1971--74) 305, Text 5. 305. Wir geben hier den

Text von Arighetti wieder, demgegenüber Kassel-Austin (Kratin. F 177 PCG; Lysipp. F 7 PCG) in Z. 32-34 auf eine tétrapa//ç ὄντας».

24.

Konjektur

von

Körte

Die Zahl 4 (jetzt Adesp. που. F 1033 PCG)

zurückgegriffen

haben,

die lautet:

δηλῶν

οὕτως

bleibt hier als unerklärlich außer Betracht. Pickard-

Cambridge (1968) 98 Anm. 1 hatten vermutet, diese Angabe stamme aus einer späteren Epoche, Artigheru (1971-74) 307 widerspricht und mißt ihr seinerseits zu große Bedeutung bei, wenn er meint, sie relativiere die Überlieferung der Fünfzahl. 25.

Das Zahlzeichen ist nur in einer unselbständigen Handschrift (ζ, Abschrift von V) ergänzt, wie uns R. Kassel freundlicherweise mitgeteilt hat. Darauf kann also nichts gebaut werden.

26.

Petersen (1878) 23f. hatte diese Auffassung noch einmal grundlegend begründet und gegen die

zwischenzeitliche Annahme verteidigt, daß von vornherein nur fünf Richter ein Urteil abgegeben hätten.

27.

Pope (1986).

28.

Pope nimmt an, daß nur die Preisrichter, deren Kandidaten die wenigsten Stimmen erhalten, neu abstimmen müssen. Abgesehen davon, daß wir nicht wissen, ob die Preisrichter auch ihre eigenen

AUSWAHL UND BEWERTUNG VON DRAMATISCHEN AUFFÜHRUNGEN

539

Namen auf die Täfelchen schreiben (die Lysias-Stelle ist dafür kein sicherer Beleg), entspräche eine solche Aufteilung eines Abstimmungsgremiums kaum den gängigen demokratischen Vorstellungen. Ebensogut wäre denkbar, daß Snicke mit aussichtsloser Stimmenzahi aussortiert

werden. Im übrigen bedarf auch die traditionelle Annahme, daß überhaupt nur fünf Summen gezogen werden, einer Fortsetzung der Abstimmung für den Fall, daß kein Sieger feststeht: bei einem Stiimmenverhältnis von 2-2-1 erwa wäre es doch sehr unwahrscheinlich, daß man - analog zu Popes Annahme -- den einen Preisrichter noch einmal stimmen läßt. 29. 30. 31.

Offenbar ist über die Reihenfolge aller Stücke abgestimmt worden, vgl. die Angabe über den vierten Platz des Komödiendichters Piaton, Ar. F 590 PCG, Z. 4%. Pickard-Cambridge (1968): “each wrote his order of ment”. Vgl. Arrighetti (1968).

32.

Petersen (1878) 24 Anm. 50, stellt die Frage, ob die Stelle auf die Zeit der 12 oder 13 Phylen in Athen zu beziehen sei.

33,

Siehe die vergleichende Betrachtung von Pope (1989). Folgt man Popes Argumentation, dann muß man die in den Quellen genannte Fünfzahl so erklären, daß in den meisten Fällen fünf Täfelchen zur Ermittlung der Sieger genügt haben und deshalb fünf als Regelzahl gegolten hat, wenngleich eben nicht ın allen Fällen.

34.

Csapo & Slater (1995) 159f.

35. 36. 37.

In einem Brief vom 12.5.1998. Hansen (1995) 204ff. Vgl. zur kultischen Bedeutung der dionysischen Wertkämpfe z.B. schon Sauppe (1855) 18. Im übrigen waren die Preisrichter bis zu einem gewissen Grad auch von der Summung des Volkes beeinflußı, worauf hier nicht näher eingegangen werden kann: die oben im Text zitierte Lukianstelle erwähnt die Bekundungen der Menge ohne erkennbaren Unterton; Platon (Leg. 659A. 700C-701B) beklagt ihren Einfluß bei musischen Wettbewerben. Vgl. noch Ar. Av. 444f.; Vesp. 1044; Nub. 525; Ael. VH 2,13 (= Ar. test. 32 PCG); [And.] 4,20f. Vgl. auch PickardCambridge (1968) 97f.; MacDowell (1995) 12. Hans-Joachim Newiger, Antonis Tsakmakis und besonders Rudolf Kassel haben uns bei der Abfassung sehr geholfen und uns vor Fehlern bewahrt, wofür wir ihnen gewiß auch im Sinne des Empfängers dieser Festschrift sehr herzlich danken. Die Versicherung, daß wir für den Inhalt ganz alleine verantwortlich sind, verdient bei diesem kniflligen Gegenstand besondere Hervorhebung.

38.

Living Freely as a Slave of the Law. Notes on Why Sokrates Lives in Athens JOSIAH OBER

“Since you were born, nurtured, and educated [through the laws], can you assert that you do not belong to us [viz. the laws], both as our son and slave, you yourself as well as your ancestors?” (Plato, Crito 50E).

Among

Mogens

Hansen’s many Athenian interests, one individual and one

political value stand out: the individual is Sokrates and the value is freedom, especially in its “negative” sense of “freedom to pursue one’s personal goals”.

Here I will seek to illuminate, with a philosophical torch assembled largely from Hansen’s

small corners

historical investigations

of a big question

about

of Athenian

Sokrates

legal procedure,

and

freedom:

a few

Does

the

acceptance by Sokrates (i.e. the literary figure depicted in Plato’s Apologia and Crito: hereafter simply “Sokrates”),' of communal

obligations he owed as a

citizen, unduly compromise his freedom as an individual? Linked to this normative question is a historical question about Sokrates’ identity: How Athenian, in terms of embracing values implicit in Athenian legal and political

practices, was Sokrates? I will suggest that both Sokrates’ “Athenian-ness” and his idiosyncrasy bear on the problem of his ethical! obligations to the state. I

make three main points: 1. Although Sokrates regarded other polities as substantively “better”, Athens was the right polis for Sokrates because (inter alta) the procedural emphasis of Athenian law rendered a commitment to obeying

the laws fully compatible with the freedom of Sokrates as an individual to choose and pursue his distinctive life goals. And so Athens never confronted Sokrates with a hard choice between his freedom of conscience and his duty as a citizen. 2.

A hypothetical law against philosophizing would not confront

Sokrates with a hard choice, because he would regard such a law as formally

invalid. 3. When he disobeyed the order of the Thirty to arrest Leon of Salamis, Sokrates was not breaking the law because the order lacked authority

under the lawcode that Sokrates regarded as being in force at the time. Sokrates is often, and not unreasonably, lumped in with other fifth-century intellectuals who chose to reside in Athens. Aristophanes in the Nudes caricatured Sokrates as a model mad scientist/sophist and, a half-century after the trial, Aischines (1.173) referred in a dicanic oration to “Sokrates the sophist”.

But Sokrates was quite different from most fifth-century sophists and scientists;

542

JOSIAH OBER

not only was he an Athenian citizen, he was deeply concerned with the obligations of citizenship. Sophists tended to move

about; their choice of re-

sidence in Athens was certainly not a matter of ethical responsibility. Sokrates, by contrast, was unwilling to live (Apologia 37C-E) or even to travel outside of

the city of Athens. In the Crito, his steadfast preference for a specific locality is offered (in the speech of the Laws [Nomoi]: 52B; cf. Phaedrus 230C) as proof

that Sokrates fully “accepted the contract” of the Athenian laws, i.e. he willingly offered his obedience to the law in exchange for his birth, upbringing, and education. The Nomot point out that since Athenians enjoyed freedom of movement, if Sokrates had ever become disenchanted with the laws, he could have left Attika at will. His continued presence thus marked acceptance

of the social contract

(51D-E).

In sum:

his continued

Sokrates had

incurred

contractual obligations to the state because he was born and raised as a citizen of Athens, and he signaled his acceptance of those obligations, day by day,

through his willing continued residence in the polts of his birth. Much

of the modern

scholarship on the Cnto, notably Richard

Kraut’s

important Socrates and the State, is concerned with the problem of whether or

not Sokrates’ position on obedience is authoritarian. Kraut attempts to absolve Sokrates of authoritarianism by arguing that the “obey or persuade” doctrine enunciated

by the Nomot

implies

that Sokrates

can

seek

to persuade

his

community that the law is wrong either before or after knowingly breaking the law. Moreover, the Nomot may regard him as acting justly, even if he breaks the

established laws of Athens, so long as his actions are consistently moral and he defends them in valid moral terms. But this argument is hard to square with the actual text of the dialogue: The Nomoi tell Sokrates, “you must do whatever the polis and patns commands, or else persuade it of what is just” (51B cf. 49E-50A, 51E-52A).? The options are obey or persuade. This would seem, on

the face of it, to mean “obey [existing law] or [successfully] persuade [the law to change (via legislation) or those who enforce it to change their interpretation of it]” not “obey or [seek to] persuade [on the basis of sound moral arguments,

although you may break the law if your arguments fail to persuade]”. The “persuade” options countenanced by the Nomot certainly must include legis-

lative changes in statutory law (through ordinary processes of nomothesia) and convincing

jurors to accept a particular interpretation

“either/or” wording future)

on

does

the basis of

of the law. But the

not allow for defending law-breaking a sound

moral

argument

(in past or

that nonetheless

fails to

persuade the legal authorities. Among the maddening aspects of Sokrates in the

Crito is his refusal to acknowledge that he faced a hard choice between obedience to (potentially) unjust law and freedom to follow a conscience that identified injustice with wrongdoing.

LIVING FREELY AS A SLAVE OF THE LAW

$43

Some recent commentators on the Crito have suggested that making legal authority the primary interpretive problem is an error, arguing that Sokrates’ refusal to escape from prison is adequately governed, in philosophical terms, by his preliminary acceptance of two premises: first that one must not do harm under any circumstance (49A-C: this is said to have been established in a prior discussion) and next that legal disobedience constitutes one sort of “doing harm”.” The long speech of the Nomoi, on this reading, is irrelevant to Sokrates’ choice; it is best understood

as a rhetorical sop to Kriton, who is

unable to accept the consequences of the “do no harm” doctrine without such palliatives. But this interpretation makes for a very lopsided dialogue (much more rhetoric than philosophy) and it requires Sokrates’ concluding comment,

to the effect that the argument of the Nomoi is so persuasive that he is unable to hear any other, to be an example of simple irony, of saying the opposite of what is in fact the case. Without some strong warrant for such an assumption, this seems a desperate measure.‘

The Nomoi of the Crito, those that Sokrates feels obligated to obey and those he imagines as dissuading him from leaving prison, are not universal principles of jurisprudence, not the just laws of a state in the abstract, but rather “the laws (hoi nomoi) and the community

(to koinon) of the polis” (SOA): i.e., the

laws and the accepted norms of social life in democratic Athens.’ The home state that Sokrates never voluntarily leaves is Athens, the laws he agrees to obey by his day-to-day residence are the laws of Athens. And so, before we reject the prima facie exclusionary force of the either/or condition, or resort to assumptions about where and how Sokrates is being ironic, it seems worthw-

hile to investigate how much personal freedom that obedience to established Athenian law allowed Sokrates. I will argue that, given the highly procedural focus of Athenian law, Athenian practices of law-making, and prevailing Athenian assumptions about the relationship of law to the governing body, Sokrates was not constrained by the laws of Athens in ways that would have unacceptably limited his personal freedom to choose and pursue those activities (specifically philosophizing) essential to his personal happiness (Ap. 38A) and moral well-being. In Athens, Sokrates was both free and obedient,

and he lived what he regarded as a consistently dutiful life without suffering a crisis of conscience. Under a system of state law in which substantive law took precedence over procedure, and in which judicial magistrates could make substantive law by establishing new legal precedents, Sokrates might well have been confronted

with a hard choice between doing philosophy and obeying the law.° And so he would either have to accept a severe constraint upon his freedom, or leave the city, or break the social contract sketched by the Nomoi of Crito by willingly

544

JOSIAH OBER

breaking the law. In Athens Sokrates was not confronted with this hard choice. This does not mean that Sokrates thought of Athens as an “ideal state”, or that he regarded democracy

as intrinsically good, or that he thought his fellow

Athenians were unlikely to do wrong and cause harm. He certainly regarded his own conviction by an Athenian jury on a charge of impiety as substantively

unjust and perhaps he guessed that he could have avoided that fate in a “better” city. But Sokrates regarded harm to himself as less important than the opportunity to live a consistently ethical life. That opportunity was provided him by the procedural focus of Athenian law. Procedural law is concerned with establishing fair rules for legal practices,

rather than with carefully defining legal terms

in an attempt

to achieve

consistently good outcomes. Under a legal regime in which impiety was strictly defined, Sokrates would confront a problem if and when his dialectical in-

vestigations demonstrated that a prevailing legal definition was flawed. If, for example,

established substantive law defined a specific and detailed set of

beliefs as constituting piety and mandated that citizens hold such beliefs, and

if Sokrates determined philosophically that those beliefs were foolish, Sokrates would have to choose between his conscience and the law. But Athenian law avoided such difficulties because

it avoided detailed definitions of abstract

terms like “piety”.’ In accepting the authority of Athenian

law, Sokrates

accepted the established procedures by which he would be judged if he were accused of a delict, but he was not constrained to accept a detailed, substantive definition of that delict. Athenian

law forbade

(inter aha)

impiety,

Aybns,

slander, and assault. By living in Attika and thereby accepting the law, Sokrates acknowledged

that these things were

morally reprehensible

and worthy

of

punishment. So, for example, because Athenian law forbade impiety (asebeta) Sokrates accepted that asebeia (properly so understood) was a crime, and that a citizen formally accused of asebeta would be tried according to a specific set . of procedures.

But when

indicted on a charge of asebeta, Sokrates was not

constrained to accept the detailed definition of asebeia offered by the prosecution. Nor was he constrained to accept that his behavior (even if accurately described by the prosecutor) would have constituted asebeia. Rather, Athenian law invited each juror to weigh the competing assessments of prosecutor and defendant regarding what sorts of behavior carried out under what conditions constituted impiety. Sokrates,

of course,

claimed

not to know

anything

certain about

moral

truths, including (as shown by the Euthyphro) piety. And so he may not have known what impiety was in an absolute sense. But he was sure that truth must

be logically consistent to itself. And so he could be sure that asebeta could not be what Meletos supposed, because Meletos contradicted himself under cross

LIVING FREELY AS

A SLAVE

OF

THE

LAW

§45

examination (Ap. 27A). Thus, whether or not Sokrates was a pious man in an

absolute sense, he was not (by his own lights) guilty of asebeia as defined by his legal opponents. Sokrates evidently expected that the jurors could in fact be persuaded by this sort of logical demonstration, in that he claims that he was

not seriously endangered by his “new accusers”, despite their rhetorical skill (Ap. 17B, 18B). The “old accusers” — the slanders that had long circulated in the city against him -- were something else again and almost impossible to

refute in the span of a legal defense. But the point is that the legal process by which Sokrates was tried was procedurally fair. Sokrates willingly accepts the authority of a legal system that gave the defendant a chance to establish, by logical demonstration

if he chose, that the prosecutor’s definition of what

constitutes a delict was faulty. In this sense, at least, Athenian legal procedure

potentially maps quite closely to the “procedure” of Socratic dialectic. Neither process assumes that it is possible to arrive at a final truth, but both processes assume that better definitions of contested evaluative terms can be arrived at and agreed upon, and worse definitions rejected. The procedural emphasis of Athenian law thus goes a long way to explaining

Sokrates’ willing obedience to it. A more substantive lawcode (perhaps that of Sparta,

Crete,

Thebes,

“better” political regime.

or Megara:

Cn.

52E,

53B)

might

indeed

foster a

But such a lawcode was not subject (as were So-

krates’ working definitions of moral terms) to constant elenchtic examination, and so it would

also be more

likely to employ

(at some point) a seriously

flawed definition. Thus the “better” regime was more likely to confront Sokrates with a hard choice between loyalty to philosophy and to the duties of citizenship, a choice he did not face in Athens. Athens may have been less

“good” by Sokrates’ lights than Crete or Sparta, but Athens offered Sokrates the unique capacity to be an obedient citizen and a free individual. This is at

least one reason why, given a daily choice of his place of residence, Sokrates consistently chose Athens. Let us consider two potential complications to this general account of why

Sokrates was content with Athenian law. First there is the possibility that a jury might seek to punish Sokrates by

forbidding him to philosophize or that the Athenians might pass a law forbidding philosophizing. The problem arises obliquely from Sokrates’ statement (Ap. 29C-30B, cf. 37E-38A)

that he would not obey the jurors if

they freed him on the condition that he abandon pursuit of his philosophical conversations. Brickhouse & Smith attempt to square Sokrates’ statement in

the Crito that he must always obey the law with his refusal in the Apologia to obey a hypothetical gag order, by pointing out that an asebeia trial was an agon timetos, meaning that if the defendant were found guilty, the jury decided

546

JOSIAH OBER

between competing penalties offered by the litigants. Athenian trial procedure made

no

provision

for jury-initiated

penalties.

Since

Sokrates

knew

the

prosecutors planned to call for his execution, he was in no danger of being slapped with a gag order.’ But Kraut points out that a law forbidding philosophizing coudd be passed by the Athenians at any time. If they did so, Sokrates would seem to face a

quandary. According to Kraut, “Socrates ... has no alternative: faced with a law against philosophy, he could not give it up, and he would not leave the

city; he is unavoidably committed to disobeying a valid law”.' But I think that Sokrates could refuse to accept the validity of such a law on the following

argument: 1) Sokrates believed that Apollo’s response whether

any man

was wiser than Sokrates

to Chairephon’s

amounted

query as to

to a divine order

to

Sokrates to philosophize. Now, this is admittedly a peculiar interpretation of what Mogens

Hansen has shown is a highly ambiguous referential oracular

statement.'' Delphic statements are notoriously problematic as perfomative speech acts (e.g as warnings or orders); it was unlikely that many of the jurors

felt that by saying “no one”

is wiser than Sokrates

the god had

in fact

unambiguously ordered Sokrates to ceaselessly expose the ignorance and folly

of his fellows. It is not surprising that Sokrates must interrupt his description of the oracle with a request that the jurors not shout him down (Ap. 21A). But

the jurors’ doubts would gravely concern Sokrates only if he cared more about avoiding harm to himself than maintaining his own ethical consistency. Sokrates seems very sure of his ground here, and his interpretation of the oracle

as a divine order clearly constituted an important part of why he regarded his own philosophizing as self-evidently pious. 2) The established Athenian law code, the law that Sokrates felt constrained

to obey, explicitly forbade impiety. Although the law did not define impiety, it was reasonable for Sokrates to suppose, as he clearly did (Ap. 33C, 37E),

that under any coherent definition, willfully disobeying a god’s order would be impious. Therefore, if Sokrates were to avoid impiety, as he must if he were to

fulfill his agreement with the Nomot, he must also philosophize. 3) The (hypothetical) law forbidding philosophizing therefore mandated impiety (at least in the case of Sokrates). By mandating a course of action explicitly forbidden by an existing law, the hypothetical law contradicted an established Athenian law. It is, of course, Sokrates’ peculiar definition of what constituted a god’s order that introduces the contradiction, but since Athenian law was silent on the substantive content of impiety, Sokrates was free to hold this

opinion. 4) The Athenian law code, and Athenian law-making procedure, as revised

LIVING FREELY AS A SLAVE OF THE LAW

547

and re-established in the legal reforms of 410-399, did not tolerate contradictory laws. According to Athenian legal principles, the passage of a new law

required the repeal of any established law contradicted by the new law; if a conflict between laws were detected, the older law prevailed unless and until it was repealed.'? Sokrates, then, could regard the law against philosophizing

as invalid as long as the law against impiety remained on the books.'* Most Athenians might not recognize that the anti-philosophizing law was invalid on

procedural grounds, but, as shown by his actions as prytants in 406 (see below), Sokrates distinguished between obedience to majority will and obedience to the established law. 5) Since only valid laws must be obeyed, Sokrates need not obey the anti-

philosophizing law, on the grounds of its procedural irregularity, until and unless the law against impiety were repealed (by majority vote of a board of nomothetaï). As the trial of Sokrates itself demonstrates, the Athenians cared deeply about

piety; repeal of the law against impiety is so far-fetched as to be uninteresting as a hypothetical case. But what about the possibility that the Athenians might pass some other law that would require Sokrates to do wrong according to his own lights? The force of the argument of the Nomo in the Crito, to the effect

that Sokrates must “obey the law or persuade it” is clarified by considering fourth-century Athenian law-making (nomothesia) procedure. Mogens Hansen has illuminated how that procedure worked in practice, and conveniently lists the main steps in his indispensable Athenian Democracy. Hansen’s step no. 4 (Hansen

[1991]

168-169)

is especially relevant: “A proposal to change the

existing laws must be published before the Monument

to the Eponymous

Heroes in the Agora, to enable any citizen who wishes to have a say in the matter”. Thus, before a problematic new law became authonitative, Sokrates had ample opportunity to “persuade”: to argue, in public and privately, against the passage of any proposed law that would make the polis an unacceptable

home for him by requiring him to choose between doing wrong and disobeying the law. If such a law were ultimately passed, Sokrates might, under Athenian law, continue to seek to “persuade” the law to change by indicting its proposer under the procedure for prosecution on the charge of establishing unsuitable

laws (see Hansen [1991] 175). Failing that, he was Nomot point out, his continued presence in Attika Sokrates would not have a similar opportunity the law under a legal system in which substantive

free to leave the polis: as the was voluntary. to “persuade” in respect to law could be created when

a judicial magistrate’s

precedent.

ruling established

a new

Nor would

the

option of persuasion be available to (for example) those who lived in Sparta under the Laws of Lykourgos. Although Sokrates himself, with his aversion to

548

JOSIAH OBER

making public speeches (Ap. 31C), might not choose to avail himself of the chance to persuade in respect to the law, the possibility of amelioration via

deliberation was surely attractive in principle to the practitioner of dialectic — once again, while Sparta might, at any given point “be better” as a society, it had little possibility of becoming better, through deliberative processes, than

it currently was. Sokrates (in the Apologia and the Cnito) remains at least guardedly optimistic about the possibility of moral improvement of each and

every Athenian via the persuasion of rational discourse.'* And thus the claim of the Nomo: that persuasion was a complementary alternative to obedience was both realistic and in tune with Sokratic aspirations. The Nomoi that address Sokrates were currently in force at the time of his imprisonment in 399 BC. These same Noma: claim to have promoted his birth and upbringing and so they are also the laws that pertained at the time of

Sokrates’ birth in 469 BC and during his youth in the mid-fifth century. The Nomoi

are, therefore, the ancestral laws of the democratic

Athenian

state.

Aristotle, in the Politica (1281a, 1282b) points out that a fundamental change in the laws implies a change in regime, and vice versa. Assuming that, in Sokrates’ view, the laws of 469 were fundamentally the same as those of 399,

there remains the question of whether Sokrates was or would be bound by Athenian legal regimes other than the ancestral regime promulgated by the

democracy. Specifically, did orders issued under the regime of the Thirty justly command

Sokrates’

obedience?

Sokrates

notoriously

remained

in Athens

during the reign of the Thirty, rather than joining the democrats either at Phyle

or Peiraieus. Does the argument of the Crito imply that Sokrates-in-Athens should obey any existing Athenian government? Or (like Theramenes

as de-

scribed by the Aristotelian Ath. Poi. 28.5) any government with a claim to constitutionality? The issue comes to the fore in Sokrates’ description of his refusal to obey an order he received from the Thirty to arrest Leon of Salamis

and bring him to the city for execution (Ap. 32C-D). Although the text does not allow a definitive answer to the question of the extent of Sokrates’ duty to a constitutional non-democratic legal regime, his behavior in 404 suggests that he did not

accept

that the ancestral

(fifth-century,

democratic)

Athenian

lawcode had been nullified by the government of the Thirty. If we suppose that

Sokrates regarded the Athenian laws in force before the coup remained in force during it, then Sokrates’ refusal to arrest Leon of Salamis is fully consistent with a stance of steadfast obedience to the (ancestral) laws. The regime

government in that,

of the Thirty was not a full-fledged new constitutional

as Krentz

has shown,

there

cannot

have

been

a full new

lawcode passed by the Thirty.'’ Nor would an Athenian necessarily conclude that the existing Athenian lawcode had been formally repealed when the Thirty

LIVING FREELY AS A SLAVE OF THE LAW

549

erased laws inscribed on Royal Stoa and took down other written laws; erasing a copy of a law does not constitute its nullification.'* A possible model for thinking about the status of Athenian law under the Thirty is provided by the

nomos passed on the resolution of Eukrates in 337/6 BC. This Athenian law threatens

with

disenfranchisement

(atimia)

and

property

confiscation

any

member of the Council of the Areopagos who fulfills his official function while

“the

demos

or the demokrana

is overthrown”.’’

The

implicit premise

of

Eukrates’ law is that democratic Athenian law is the law of Athens, irrespective of who is actually in charge at any given point in time. The democratic law is

imagined as pertaining during a period in which the “demokrana and the demos” had been replaced by a tyranny. The tyranny is seen as a lapse in the effective power of the demos to govern, but not in the legal authority of the established law over all Athenians, and especially over Athenian magistrates. Sokrates might well have reasoned likewise. He certainly refused to equate the power of the demos to effect its will with the authority of Athenian law, as demonstrated by his resistance to the popular will of the Assembly when he

served as prytanis during the indictment of the Arginousai generals in 406. That

resistance

was

predicated

explicitly

on

the

grounds

of procedural

irregularity (paranomos: 32B4). Moreover, his resistance to the demos when serving as prytanis is equated by Sokrates with his resistance to the order to arrest Leon (Ap. 32C). In both cases, it seems, those in power demanded one thing, but Sokrates rejected that demand as inconsistent with the established

law. Finally, the Nomoï that address Sokrates in the Crito speak as if their authority (and Sokrates’ obedience to it) had been uninterrupted during the

course of Sokrates’ life.'® So I would suggest that in 404 and 399 Sokrates, like his fellow Athenians some

60 years later, assumed

that the “ancestral lawcode”

(the one under

which he had been born and had grown up) remained in place throughout a tyrannical interregnum. And, unlike Sokrates’ peculiar interpretation of the

force of Apollo’s oracle, this assumption may have been quite consistent with the thinking of the ordinary Athenians on the jury — and as such it required no special explanation. As Sokrates reports the Leon incident, he was ordered by Athenian magistrates (the Thirty) to seize another Athenian. Mogens Hansen has shown that under normal circumstances, Athenian law held that magistrates, giving orders within their sphere of competence, must legally be obeyed.’ In this case it may

initially have appeared to Sokrates that the magistrates in question could legitimately command his obedience, since when ordered (metapempsamenoi me ... 32C5) to come to the Tholos, Sokrates did so. But the order given him upon

his arrival was a peculiar one: to seize and transport another citizen from

550

JOSIAH OBER

Salamis

(agagein ek Salaminos ... 32C6)

to the city, with the clear under-

standing that Sokrates would be bringing him to Athens for execution. Instead

of going to Salamis, Sokrates went home, thus refusing to obey the order. Did the magistrates mandating the arrest of Leon issue a legally binding order to Sokrates? I would suggest that Sokrates reasoned that the transport order had no validity under the pertaining (ancestral) system of law -- 1.6. either

giving such an order lay outside the magistrates’ sphere of authority or the “magistrates” were not genuine magistrates, having been appointed extraconstitutionally.” Either way, someone who considered the ancestral law to be

still in place need not suppose that the Thirty had the legal authority to order him to agagein an Athenian. Now, it is indeed the case that under certain circumstances, an Athenian magistrate or an ordinary citizen might seize a citi-

zen. Mogens Hansen notes the frequency of use of apagoge procedure by the Thirty. According to this procedure an Athenian might be legally executed if

he had been identified as a malefactor (kakourgos) and was apprehended by a magistrate (or a citizen volunteer) in a criminal act (ep’ autophoroi).”' But there seems to be no existing provision in ancestral Athenian law that would authorize a magistrate to issue a binding order to an Athenian citizen to travel

elsewhere in Attika in order to seize another Athenian and transport him to the city for execution. And so, when Sokrates ignored the magistrate’s invalid order, he put himself at risk (as he points out: Ap. 32D), but he did not compromise his stance in regard to the duty owed by a citizen to the established law. I have tried to show that in democratic Athens Sokrates was, by his own

lights, free to pursue his life goals and still able to live the dutiful life of a lawabiding citizen. In his conviction that Athens, uniquely, offered its citizens a conjunction of freedom and the fulfillment of the citizen’s life, Sokrates is very Athenian:

in tune with parts of the idealistic vision offered in the Funeral

Oration of Thucydides’

Perikles and sharing core assumptions with his or-

dinary fellow-citizens about why it is was better to live in Athens than elsewhere. But of course Sokrates was neither a politician nor an ordinary Athenian.

Some of the assumptions that allowed Sokrates to square his own cherished freedom to pursue philosophy with the strictest obedience to the law - notably the pious duty he supposed had been assigned to him by Apollo’s oracle — were peculiar to himself. Sokrates of Apologia and Crito does not, therefore, offer a

full-featured general description of how anyone else, living under any other legal regime, might square personal freedom with obedience to the law. But neither does he claim to do so. Sokrates leaves each would-be

Sokratic to

figure out the details of own ethical life, which is presumably why Cro was not

LIVING FREELY AS A SLAVE OF THE LAW

Plato’s last word

on political obligation

551

and the law. The

deep personal

idiosyncrasy that lurks within a distinctively Athenian persona, all the while coinciding with a commitment to universal values and reason, helps to explain

why Sokrates remains such an engaging, elusive, and occasionally maddening figure. And I conclude by noting that those characteristics are not completely

alien to the man to whom this essay is offered.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Boegehold,

A.

1996.

“Resistance

Hedrick (eds.), Demokrana.

to Change

in the Laws

at Athens,”

in J. Ober

&

C.

A Conversanon on Democracies Ancient and Modern (Prince-

ton) 203-214.

Brickhouse, T.C. & Smith, N.D. 1989. Socrates on Trial (Princeton). Hansen, M.H. 1976. Apagoge, Endeixis and Ephegesis against Kakourgoi, Atimoi and Pheugontes. A Srudy in the Athenian Administration of Justice in the Fourth Century B.C. (Odense). Hansen, M.H. 1991. The Athenian Democracy in the Age of Demosthenes. Structure, Principles, and Ideology (Oxford).

Hansen, M.H. 1995. The Trial of Socrates — From the Athenian Point of View, Historisk-filosofiske Meddelelser 71, Royal Danish Academy of Sciences and Letters (Copenhagen). Kateb, G. 1998. “Socratic Integrity,” in I. Shapiro & R. Adams (eds.), Integrity and Conscience (New York) 77-112. Kraut, R. 1984. Socrates and the State (Princeton). Krentz, P. 1982. The Thirty at Athens (Ithaca N.Y.). Miller, M. 1996. “The Arguments Phronesis 41: 121-137.

I Seem

to Hear’. Argument

and Irony in the Cnito,”

Ober, J. 1998. Polincal Dissent in Democratic Athens. Intellectual Critics of Popular Rule (Princeton). Rubinstein, L. 1998. “The Political Perception of the /diotes,” in P. Cartledge, P. Miller, & S. von Reden (eds.), Kosmos. Essays in Order, Conflict and Community in Classical Athens (Cambridge) 125-143. Scalia, A. 1997. A Matter of Interpretation. Federal Courts and the Laws, edited by A. Gutmann (Princeton). Todd, 5. 1993. The Shape of Athenian Law (Oxford). Vasiliou, I. 1999. “Conditional Irony in the Socratic Dialogues,” CQ 49: 456-472. White, J.B. 1996. “Plato’s Crito. The Athenian View of Law and Philosophy,” in R.B. Louden & P. Schollmeier (eds.), The Greeks and Us. Essays in Honor of W.H. Adkins (Chicago).

552

JOSIAH OBER

NOTES I do not suppose that Plato’s Sokrates in any given dialogue is identical to the historical Sokrates, but I do suppose that Sokrates as he is depicted in the Apologia and the Crito represents Plato’s initial understanding of the ethical quandaries confronting the historical Sokrates and Plato’s understanding of why the historical Sokrates acted as he did when faced by Meletas’ indictment, at the tral, and in the few days prior to his execution. See further, Ober (1998) 159-160. Kateb (1998) argues for disunctly different depictions of Sokrates in Apologia and Crize. wh

Kraut (1984) 82-90. Miller (1996); White (1996).

we

On Sokratic irony, see now Vassiliou (1999). Kraut

(1984)

81-82, claims that the Nomot of Crito blend together real Athenian laws and an

idealized jurisprudence; this seems to me not to be the case: the Nomao explain the logic behind the laws of Athens in what may be fairly described as jurisprudenual language, but the logic is a specifically Athenian legal logic, one that arises from the law code. I think therefore it is misleading to say (Kraut [1984] 82) that “someone who violates the city’s orders [i.e. an actual Athenian law] is not necessarily departing from the philosophy of the Laws [the Nomoi of Crito]”, although as I will suggest below, Sokrates can disobey an order that he regards as invalid due to its failure to conform to established Athenian judicial procedures. On substantive law and precedent-making as law-making, see Scalia (1997).

Proceduralist emphasis of Athenian law: Todd (1993). See Kraut (1984)

13-17, 83. The following argument is expanded from Ober (1998)

172 n. 32,

182 n. 51. Brickhouse & Smith (1989) 137-153. Kraut (1984) 15-17, quote: 16. Hansen (1995) 34. Hansen (1991) 169, 175, notes that the lawmaking procedure takes the form ofa trial against existing laws. A prosecutor who indicted Sokrates under the hypothetical and-philosophizing law, anticipating this defense, might assert that the anti-philosophizing law was valid until and unless it was condemned

under the procedure for indicting unsuitable laws (see below). But Sokrates’ could

respond that, since it is impossible to be both pious and impious simultaneously, both laws could not

simultaneously

command

his

obedience.

The

invalidity

of

the

newer

law

was

thus

demonstrated by the fact that it mandated illegal behavior. 14.

Ober (1998)

15. 16.

Krenrz (1982) 60-62. Sokrates calls the government an arche (Ap. 32D4).

Boegehold (1996) 205-207.

17.

SEG 12 87.

18.

The

Nomoi

184-185.

do

not,

therefore,

consider

the

revisions

and

recodifications

of 410-399

as an

interruption in their continuous authority, even though new laws were added and some laws in effect before 403/2 were not included in the revised lawcode (Hansen [1991] 162-164). In this sense, then, the Nomoi must be regarded as representing the underlying jurtsprudential logic of Athenian law, as well as the laws themselves.

19. 20.

Hansen (1991) 229; cf. Rubinstein (1998) 131-139. I would like to think that the magistrates’ lack of authority was established after they had been engaged by Sokrates in an elenchtic conversation on the subject of legal authority; but imagining that interchange in detail would require Mogens Hansen’s skill in inventing Sokratic dialogue; see, for an example, Hansen (1995) 22-24.

21.

Hansen (1976) 31 with n. 4, 36ff.

Just Rituals. Why the Rigmarole of Fourth-Century Athenian Lawcourts?

VICTOR BERS

This paper is offered to Mogens

Hansen as a token of my esteem for his

immense contributions to the study of Greek poleis in general and Athenian institutions in particular, and in gratitude for his exceptional generosity as a

scholar and friend. Students of the Athenian lawcourts are delighted by the copious detail (a “thick description,”

Athenaion

in contemporary

Politeia 63-66

historians’

explains how

parlance)

the Athenians

with which

the

assigned jurors and

presiding magistrates to the dikastena in the period shortly before that work was composed (ca. 330 BC) and perhaps for several decades before that. Yet

these same scholars have also been perplexed by the complexity of the sortition process, finding it at the same time excessive and inadequate. I propose that the apparent paradox

is best explained by understanding

the rigmarole

as

ceremony aimed at alleviating the Athenians’ anxiety about the democratic jurors — their general quality, number, and probity.' If I am right, we must dare to discount the rationale for the procedures explicitly stated by the Athenaton Polıteia itself, viz. the erection of practical obstacles to corruption of the judicial

process. Almost worse, we must dare to disagree with the honorand of this Festschrift in one

point

and

steel

ourselves

for his

(doubtless

courteous)

refutation. Why all the pinakia, acorns, boxes and baskets, sortition machines, railings, colored

sticks and

matching

lintels over the courtroom

doors? Within

the

immediately relevant part of the text, the Ath. Pol. gives an answer at several

points. At 64.2 it is explained that the empektes, the man who

draws the

prospective jurors’ tickets from the boxes and inserts them in the slots, was chosen by lot lest, “if the same man always did the job, he do mischief.” At

64.4 we read that the drawing of acorns is designed to prevent the packing of jury panels. The sticks and lintels are color-coded iva ἀναγκαῖον ἡ αὐτῷ εἰσελθεῖν εἰς ὃ εἴληχε δικαστήριον’ ἐὰν yap εἰς ἕτερον εἰσέλθῃ, ἐξελέγχεται ὑπὸ τοῦ

χρώματος τῆς βακτηρίας (“so that he is obliged to go into the court to which he has been assigned: for if he goes into another he is exposed by the colour of his staff’; 65.1, transl. by P.J. Rhodes).

I take this not entirely lucid phrase to

554

VICTOR BERS

mean that the system of matching colors would impede dicasts wishing, with a dishonest purpose,

to enter the wrong

court.’ Sortition prevents

anyone

knowing in advance which archon will be assigned to which court (66.1) to supervise the trial. And at 66.2 it is said that men are chosen by lot to work the waterclock iva μηδεὶς παρασκενάζῃ μήτε tov ἐπὶ τὸ ὕδωρ μήτε τοὺς ἐπὶ τὰς ψήφους, μήδε γίγνηται περὶ ταῦτα κακούργημα μηδέν (“so that no one shall arrange who is to be in charge of the water or the ballots and there shall be no dishonesty in these matters”; transl. by P.J. Rhodes). According to the author, then, these measures are meant to counter the possibility of tampering with the jurors, and

even with the essentially powerless

magistrates.’

The

author has

already

mentioned bribery in the course of his short history of the courts (27.5: ἤρξατο δὲ μετὰ καὶ τὸ δεκάζειν ...; “After this judicial corruption began”; transl. by P.]. Rhodes).* The only other explicit rationale he provides concerns the separation into

tnbal

groups

procedure

meant

when

the

to prevent

implying throughout

time

comes

crowding

to distribute

(66.3).

Thus

the

dicastic

fee,

a

it is likely that he is

that nearly every element of the procedure

has as its

primary aim the insulation of the judicial system from corruption. The Ath.

Pol.’s concentration

on the mechanics

has, I believe, diverted

moderns away from the central purpose of the procedure and into a number of peripheral issues and unlikely conjectures. corruption

stratagems

not

explicitly

They have searched for anti-

identified

as

such.

H.

Hommel,

for

instance, sees the initial division of the jury pools into tribal contingents as a means

to discourage

an outsider

from

entering

the

lottery with

a forged

pinakion: tribesmen would, he thinks, notice the interloper’s unfamiliar face.’ Attacking from

a different angle, Rhodes

sees a neglected

vulnerability to

corruption. Commenting on 64.2, he writes of a “departure from pure randomness in the system”: an “unscrupulous” empektes, himself chosen by lot, might see his enemies’ pinakia in the boxes where they had been thrown, and deliberately withdraw them last, so as to strand them in incomplete rows on the kleroterion, thereby depriving their owners of dicastic assignments that day. In The Shape of Athenian Law,

S.C. Todd

shares this worry.° But Rhodes’

extrapolation from the text is not plausible. For a shyster empektes to do his dirty work, he would need to have a clear view of the pinakıa, many of which would be lying face down or at an inconvenient angle, and read the names quickly without other men noticing that his eyes were scanning and his lips very likely moving

moment,

as they formed

lunging forward

the names,’

at another.

Given

his hand

that some

hesitating at one

dicasts would

be

homonymous, the suspected malfeasance would occasionally require reading the

demotic

and

perhaps

patronymic

as well.

How

many

empekrai

could

manage that feat? If the Athenians were nervous about this opportunity for foul

JUST RITUALS

555

play, they could have impeded the villain by making him grope in a box almost as deep as a man’s arm and topped by a lid with a slot cut too narrow to see through with any ease. (Moreover, to influence the verdict in a particular case, not merely the determination of which men would serve that day, would have been a formidable undertaking.

Not knowing in advance which completed

panel would be assigned to hear the case, the empektes would need both to manipulate a very large number of pinakta of his own tribe and be working in

concert with empektai working the kleroteria for the other tribes).® Other stages of the process by which archons and jurors were assigned to the various courtrooms have seemed just so much otiose fussing. The matching of courtrooms to letters was performed by sortition, “an unnecessary elaboration”

(Rhodes [1993] ad 66.1). The color coding is apparently redundant, since the entire

system

presupposes

the

ability

to distinguish

letters,

and

here

the

redundancy actually introduced a risk of disorder, as Rhodes (1993) ad 65.1 points out, “if a careless ὑπερέτης gave a juror a staff of the wrong colour.” Random allotment also determined which magistrate would preside at which court, though it is very difficult to see what practical difference that would make

in a system

that normally used magistrates as not much

bailiffs and clerks. Once

more

a juror arrived in his assigned courtroom,

than a man

selected by lot handed him a symbolon, the function of which is obscure (see Rhodes’ commentary). The

desired

random

assignment,

tribe

by

tribe,

could

have

been

ac-

complished more quickly with fewer steps, fewer personnel, and even without the acorns, colored lintels, and sticks. Baskets for concealing and shaking the pinakia, some more ropes to channel the jurors to the right courtroom,’ and

perhaps a few more public slaves would be sufficient. The Ath. Pol. makes no complaint, or even observation, on these superfluous procedures. Moderns,

however,

see a puzzle in the Athenian adoption of a

practice elaborated, in some of its components, beyond what was required to maintain the jurors’ probity, and yet in other components insufficient. Rhodes

and

Todd

have

proposed

solutions

to the apparent

puzzle

that posit a

fascination with the process and equipment per se. Todd (loc. cit.) stresses the

equipment:'” “Was the kleroterion a truly effective instrument of random selection, or was it used simply because it was the latest in modern technology? We are in no position to say.” Todd’s first alternative is reasonable enough, but

it explains only one aspect of the procedure and, as I argue below, randomness should

not

be

considered

in

only

its practical

dimension.

The

second

alternative strikes me as a most improbable motive. It is true that the klerotenon, presumably copied from Athens, is attested elsewhere in Greece.'' But as a piece of technology, the machine is hardly clever enough in itself to motivate

556

VICTOR BERS

its use:

a block

of wood

or stone

with

slits,

a hollowed-out

channel,

a

mechanism to release the black and white balls one at a time.'? Could such a device have impressed people who saw the Parthenon and other architectural

wonders all around them? More important, Athens had a political culture tolerant of procedural complexity, but not much fascinated with gadgets. Rhodes’ speculation takes an even more abstract turn in his recent article,

“Judicial Procedures in Fourth-Century Athens”: The

procedures

will have

become

easier

and

faster as an increasing

number of men gained experience in working them, but they will always have been cumbersome and time-consuming, and we have seen that by the time of the Ath. Pol. more elements of randomness had been created than

were

necessary

to

achieve

the

desired

results.

They

will

have

Originated, I assume, in a genuine desire to secure a balanced and unpredictable assignment of jurors to courts, but I cannot resist the feeling that the scheme

developed

a momentum

of its own,

and came

to be

valued and extended on account of its very elaboration.'? We should, I believe, go beyond that “irresistible feeling,” for it rests on the

intrinsically improbable

notion

democracy

endured,

not

merely

that mature but

Athenian

positively

men

delighted

of the radical in

the

“very

elaboration” of a long and somewhat silly procedure performed more than 150 times a year. Further, Rhodes (following the Ach. Pol. whither commonsense would

have led him in any case) mentions

one of the procedure’s

original

raisons d’être, the prevention of corrupt practices, but this concern was probably not as urgent as first appears, and it is not the only possible reason for the introduction of a system more complicated than what we know from an earlier

period. Except for reports on some late-fifth and early fourth-century scandals, the Athenians

have

left relatively

little explicit complaint

or worry

about

bribery of the jurymen. Forensic speakers do, to be sure, sometimes attribute jury tampering machinations to their opponents, but that alone tells us very

little. From

the speeches we might suppose

that evidence was frequently

obtained by the torture of slaves, but Gagarin can plausibly argue that basanos

was for the most part a legal fiction.'* Also, one must not forget the sheer volume of cases handled by Athenian courts. We cannot calculate the total, but it must have been immense, given how many days the courts were open'” and

the size of the jury pool needed to man the panels. Perhaps the system was defeated from time to time, but I appeal to the same sort of argument that Todd

(loc. cit.) has borrowed from MacDowell: the Athenians were satisfied

with this procedure - and that matters very much. Perhaps it should be put this

JUST RITUALS

557

way: they needed to be satisfied, for otherwise the authority of the courts would crumble, and the democracy with it. The vulnerability of the system to outright tampering is not, in my view, the

most important issue. Even if the jurors could have been entirely insulated from

those

who

wished

to

corrupt

them,

Athenians

were

nevertheless

suspicious of and alarmed by the connected aspects of the mass Athenian jury

that I mention at the opening of this article. I propose that the apparently excessive, yet inadequate, complexity of the system betrays a function beyond the simply utilitarian. What

the jurors seem

to have

enacted each day the

dikasteria were convoked is best described as ceremony,'° a civic ritual carrying an implicit symbolism that responded to distrust of the jury along the lines I have suggested. An orderly, if not quick, method to select and seat an army of

jurors, to be sure, but also a means to impress others with the solemnity of the courts and to impress and thereby reassure themselves. By “others” I mean those excluded from an active role because of age, gender, foreign citizenship, or other disability from any direct role in the Greek world’s most spectacular

judicial drama.'’ By “themselves” I mean not only the jurors seated on any particular day, but the rejected members of the jury pool, some of whom may have felt aggrieved, and the city as a whole. This was a ceremony centering on the jurors, the display of their tickets, and the procession of the individual

dicasts who won assignment that day to their respective courts holding the colored sticks. There was also the separate voyage made by their tickets, and

the reunion with their owners after the work was done. Many of the components of this visually impressive ceremony were managed by jurors themselves. All of the men who presented themselves for jury service needed to know, or very quickly learn, what to do and when. Their very savoir faire was a sign that they were the living instruments of some settled civil process, one permeated by the specifically democratic legitimacy of the lot. Even if the jurors were suspected of obsession with the mobolon that awaited them at trial’s end, the mode of distribution was designed to maximize orderliness; and orderliness

could be seen as a metonymy for legitimacy. In the era of Aristophanes’ Wasps, the quick method of seating a jury that remained as a stable group throughout the year was lacking in pomp; worse, the denial of seats to latecomers might have

sometimes

resulted in unseemly

shoving

as the gate was

closed

(Ar.

Vespae 124, 774-775). Unlike the practical aspects of the procedure, the symbolism here proposed

is left unexplained by the Ath. Pol. This silence does not much embarrass my theory, since the notion of spectacle in the service of politics is absent from the Aristotelian or Pseudo-Aristotelian corpus, not only from the Arh. Pol., but

from the more theoretical Polttics.'* I doubt that there was ever any authorita-

558

VICTOR BERS

tive statement of the procedure’s

meaning; perhaps those who

at meetings

promulgated elements of the procedure never articulated its purpose; but the

lack of an official exegesis is actually an advantage, for the ceremony could then be interpreted along lines that accommodated differing perceptions of the dikastena. For those concerned with tampering, the procedure could be read

as largely practical. Those Athenians who were alarmed at the casual attitude of Athenian jurors as they made important judgments about other men’s lives

and fortunes could read the ceremony in one of several ways. In a secular mode, the ceremony could be understood as underlining the seriousness of the

work. For those of a more religious cast of mind, the procedure could be even more awesome. The gods were, of course, directly invoked in the annual swearing of the dicastic oath by the entire pool en masse. The oath, though repeatedly recalled by litigants in their speeches, was not vividly re-enacted each day. But I think it very likely that the ordinary man is likely to have felt that it was not an entirely random process that assigned dtkastai. And here is

where I make bold to question an interpretation published by Mogens Hansen. He adduces Plato, Leges 759B in the course of his argument that “All in all,

there is not a single good source that straightforwardly testifies to the selection of magistrates as having a religious character or origin.”'” The matter of origin I will leave alone: my objection is on the question of religious character. The passage

does

indeed

insist, as Hansen

says,

selection by lot of priests and magistrates: ἐπιτρέποντα

αὐτῷ

τὸ

κεχαρισμένον

on a distinction between

the

τὰ μὲν οὖν τῶν ἱερέων, τῷ θεῷ

γίγνεσθαι,

κληροῦν

οὕτω

τῇ

θείᾳ

τύχῃ

ἀποδιδόντα, δοκιμάζειν δὲ τὸν ἀεὶ λαγχάνοντα … (“In electing priests, one should leave it to the god himself to express his wishes, and allow him to guide the luck of the draw. But the man whom

the lot favours must be screened ...”;

trans]. by T. Saunders). My first criticism is that Plato is not only not a spokesman for popular opinion, but in fact a philosopher notoriously contemptuous of democracy. To my mind, what we have here is Plato going out of his way to reject a common belief, one that bolsters democratic ideology. Second, he even seems to have forgotten the distinction he accords the lot in a theoretical admonition of men who might balk at measures restricting the size of Magnesia to the stipulated 5,040 households: ὁ νείμας κλῆρος ὧν θεός (“The lot by which they were distributed is a god ...”, 741B, transl. by T. Saunders; cited as well by Hansen.) Plato may not himself have rejected all secular uses of the lot, but I find it significant that the figurative language he uses here, sortition as god, is one he imagines as persuasive to the generality of citizens. There is also a piece of positive evidence, though it is not unequivocal, a blatant rhetorical exploitation of the idea that the gods play a role in sortition at [Dem.] 25.10-11:

JUST RITUALS

559

.. τήμερον ὀρθῶς dei δικάσαι, τὴν ta δίκαι᾽ ἀγαπῶσαν Evvoptav περὶ πλείστου ποιησάμενους, ἢ πάσας καὶ πόλεις καὶ χώρας σῴζει: καὶ τὴν ἀπαραίτητον καὶ

σεμνὴν Δίκην, ἣν ὁ τὰς ἀγιωτάτας ἡμῖν τελετὰς καταδείξας ᾿Ορφεὺς παρὰ τὸν τοῦ Διὸς θρόνον φησὶ καθημένην πάντα τὰ τῶν ἀνθρώπων ἐφορᾶν, εἰς αὐτὸν ἕκαστον νομίσαντα βλέπειν οὕτω δεῖ ψηφίζεσθαι, φυλαττόμενον καὶ προορώμενον μὴ καταισχῦναι ταύτην, ἧς ἐπώνυμός ἐστιν ὑμῶν ἕκαστος ὁ ἀεὶ δικάζειν λαχών, πάντα τὰ ἐν τῇ πόλει καλὰ καὶ δίκαια καὶ συμφέροντα ταύτην τὴν ἡμέραν παρακαταθήκην ἔνορκον εἰληφὼς παρὰ τῶν νόμων καὶ τῆς πολιτείας καὶ τῆς πατρίδος. (“you must today give a righteous verdict. You must magnify the Goddess

of Order who loves what is right and preserves every city and every land; and before you cast your votes, each juryman must reflect that he is being watched

by

hallowed

and

inexorable

Justice,

who,

as Orpheus,

that

prophet of our most sacred mysteries, tells us, sits beside the throne of

Zeus and oversees all the works of men. Each must keep watch and ward lest he shame

that goddess,

from

whom

everyone

that ts chosen by lot

derives his name of juror, because he has this day received a sacred trust from the laws, from the constitution, from the fatherland, -- the duty of guarding all that is fair and right and beneficial in our city”; trans]. by J.H. Vince).

The italicized words almost certainly refer to jurors appointed to panels by the day’s sortition: λαγχάνω (“to be chosen by lot”) is, of course, associated with the lot as early as Homer,

and ὁ ἀεί (“everyone”)

1s more easily taken as a

distributive referring to a frequently performed sortition than to the process by

which names for membership in the jury pool for the entire year were drawn.”° It is not quite explicit that Dike is the sole “god in the machine”: perhaps she is merely eponymous. The words πάντα τὰ tov ἀνθρώπων ἐφορᾶν (“oversee all

the works of men”), however, surely suggest that she is more than a passive spectator of the selection process.”

It was

of course likely that those who

doubted or rejected the idea that divinity (assuming it existed) gave a fig for the

wrangling of the Athenian courts nevertheless welcomed a show that put the fear of god into their superstitious fellow citizens and thereby enhanced the quality of the justice they administered.

560

VICTOR BERS

BIBLIOGRAPHY Boegehold, A.L. 1984. “Many Letters: Aristophanes Plutus 1166-1167,” in Boegehold ez al. (1984) 23-29. Boegehold, A.L. er al. (eds.) 1984. Studies Presented to Sterling Dow on His Eightieth Birthday (Durham). Bishop, J.D. 1970. “The Cleroterium,” FHS 90: 322-328.

Burnyeat, M.F. 1997. “Postscript on Silent Reading,” CQ 47: 74-76. Carey, C. 1994. “Legal Space in Classical Athens,” GaR 41: 172-186. Connor, W.R. 1987. “Tribes, Festivals and Processions: Civic Ceremonial and Political Manipulation in Archaic Greece,” JHS 107: 40-50. Eder, W. (ed.} 1995. Die athenische Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. (Stuttgart). Gagarin, M. 1996, “The Torture of Slaves in Athenian Law,” CP 91: 1-18. Gavrilov, A.K.

1997. “Techniques of Reading in Classical Antiquity,” CQ 47: 56-73,

Hall, E. 1995. “Lawcourt Dramas: the Power of Performance in Greek Forensic Oratory,” BICS 40: 39-52. Hansen, M.H. 1979. “How Often Did the Athenian Dicasteria Meet?” GRBS 20: 243-246. Hansen, MH. 1991. The Athenian Democracy in the Age of Demosthenes (Oxford and

Cambridge, Mass.). Harris, E.M. 1994. “Law and Oratory,” in Worthington (1994) 130-150. Harrison, A.R.W. 1971. The Law of Athens vol. 2 (Oxford). Hommel, H. 1927. Hehaia: Untersuchungen zur Verfassung und Prozessordnung des Athenischen Volksgerichts, insbesondere zum Schlussteil der AQGHNAIQN TTOAITEIA des Aristoteles,

Philologus Suppl. (Leipzig). Lanni, A.M. 1997. “Spectator Sport or Serious Politics: οἱ περιεστηκότες and the Athenian Lawcourts,” JHS 117: 183-189. Ober, J. & Strauss, B. 1990. “Drama, Political Rhetoric, and the Discourse of Athenian Democracy,” in Winkler & Zeitlin (1990) 237-290, Osborne,

R.

1994.

“Ritual,

Finance,

Politics: an Account

of Athenian

Democracy,”

in

Osborne & Hornblower (1994) 1-21. Osborne, R. & Hornblower, 8. (eds.) 1994. Ritual, Finance, Polincs: Athenian Democratic Accounts Presented to David Lewis (Oxford).

Rhodes, P.J. 1993.

A Commentary on the Aristotelian Athenaion Politeia (rev. edn., Oxford).

Rhodes, P.J. 1995. “Judicial Procedures in Fourth-Century Athens,” in Eder (1995) 303319,

Spivey, N. 1994, “Psephological Heroes,” in Osborne & Hornblower (1994) 39-52. Todd, S.C. 1993. The Shape of Athenian Law (Oxford). Triantaphyllopoulos, J. 1985. Das Rechisdenken der Griechen (Munich).

Winkler, J.J. & Zeitlin, F.I. (eds.) 1990. Nothing to Do with Dionysos? (Princeton). Worthington, I. (ed.) 1994. Persuasion: Greek Rhetoric in Action (London).

JUST RITUALS

561

NOTES In lectures presented at the Greek Law Panel at the 1994 meeting of the American Philological Association

and

at Royal

Holloway

College,

University

of London

I have

discussed

these

misgivings. I hope to elaborate on the topic in a separate publication. After delivering these talks, I discovered that the notion of sortition procedure as ceremony had been anticipated by Osborne (1994): see n. 16. My thanks to Debra Hamel, Adriaan Lanni, Adele Scafuro, Stephen Todd

(respondent at the APA panel), and the anonymous reader for this volume for their comments. Possibly (as the anonymous reader has suggested) this means that color was used to prevent a confused, forgetful, or illiterate juryman

from entering the wrong

court, but all other uses of

words with the @vayx-root in the Arak. Pol. (1 count sixteen) involve the spheres of volition and compulsion, not inevitability. And I think that ἐξελέγχεται is more likely to suggest disclosure of wrongdoing than innocent mistake. Adele Scafuro reminds me that Isae. 5.18 reports a substantial intervention by an archon. In a

similar vein, the anonymous reader cites the magistrate’s collusion alleged at [Dem.] 43.8 and the syndtkoi who appear in speeches of the early fourth century (see Harrison [1971] 34-35). I believe, nevertheless, that my generalisation is a fair one. Rhodes (1993) ad 27.5 righdy derides the author's implication that bribery was a consequence of jury pay. Hommel

(1927) 6.

Tadd (1993) 87.

For the most recent treatment of the question of silent and vocalized reading, see Gavrilov (1997) and Burnyeat (1997). Bishop (1970) 10 suggests the possibility of cheating by touch: this seems to me even less likely.

A point I owe to Debra Hamel. If the court was at some distance, the parade of dicasts would need ropes of appropriate length (enough to surround the group) and a few more slaves. At any rate, this would be easier than herding citizens into the assembly with vermilion-dyed ropes (schol. in Ar. Ach. 54). 10.

Hansen (1991) 199 with note 227 compares the “complicated and time-consuming procedures”

of the courts with those for ostracism, sortition to select the eptstates ton prytaneon, and voting in dokimasiat. Though Hansen speaks of the “fascination of the Athenians for ingenious devices,” his discussion suggests that he is thinking mostly of the “game,” as he calls it, not the equipment.

11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16,

Examples have been found at Thasos, Delos, Smyrna, Kyrene, Rhodes, Myrina, Sinope, Kyme in Aiolis, Pamphylia, Arkadia, and Epeiros: see Triantaphyllopoulos (1985) 247. Boegehold (1984) 24 remarks that if Aristophanes’ Geras is correctly assigned to 410 BC, the “kleroterion was an item of public knowledge before Anytus bribed a dikasterion”. In Eder (1995) 309-310. Gagarin (1996) 17 (with references to earlier scholarship, including the fundamental work of Gerhard Thür). One of the myriad aspects of Athenian civic life on which Mogens Hansen has provided the basic statement: see Hansen (1979). The symbolism of civic ritual was first given prominence by Connor (1987). See also Ober & Strauss (1990}. My argument is partially adumbrated in Osborne (1994) 5: “With the development of the popular courts further highly evocative rituals developed: not just a significantly different voting ritual, but rituals of dividing the body of dikasts into separate courts,

with all the visible democracy of the alloıment machines, the division of time for speakers according to the water-clock, and the ritual of handing out pay.” Spivey (1994) ventures an interpretation of some Attic red-figured vases, which he dates to the period around 490 to 470, illustrating the casting of ballots by Homeric heroes, an anachronism of course, dressed in long chitons, and sometimes without their weapons, holding the walking suck he calls a “badge of democratic citizenship”. These are, he argues, tokens of “democratic mentality”. ΠῚ he is right,

we have procedure as omament, images making an ideological point. But the images I am dealing with are moving pictures with live actors, and so more powerful.

462

17.

18.

VICTOR BERS

On the courts interpreted as spectacle, see Hall (1995) and Lanni (1997). For some important cautions against recent trends in the analysis of the Athenian lawcourts, see Harris (1994) and Carey (1994). Perhaps Anstotle can be said to have entered the outskirts of the idea of civic ceremony in his discussion of spectators’ affect in the Poetics and the last book of the Pohincs.

19.

Hansen

20.

instrument whereby a lawgiver can easily establish a low form of equality. Not a strong philological argument, but I note that if offerings to Apollo were not made nearly every day, his janitor Ion would suffer serious malnourishment: βωμοί μ' ἔφερβον οὐπιών τ΄ ἀεὶ

(1991)

51.

He

also

cites

757B,

where

ξένος (Eur. Jon 323).

21.

Cf. also Ar. Eccl. 999-1000 and Alkiphron 3.13.1.

Plato

speaks

disparagingly

of the

lot as

an

The Length of Trials for Public Offences in Athens

DOUGLAS

M. MacDOWELL

“A public prosecution took a whole day.” So writes Mogens Hansen in his excellent description of Athenian democracy (Hansen [1991]

187). Aithough

the statement might possibly be found ambiguous, it is clear from his next few

sentences that he means that the whole trial for a public offence (not the prosecution alone) took all day, and that it was completed within the one day (not merely that it filled at least a whole day). His view, then, is the orthodox one, held by almost everyone who has written on the topic in modern times. There is, however, one exception, not mentioned by Hansen: Ian Worthington has argued that some trials lasted for more than one day (Worthington [1989] 204-207; [1992] 284-285). The purpose of this article is to explain why I still agree with Hansen and the orthodox view.

Worthington’s

arguments

are not to be lightly dismissed,

but deserve

detailed consideration. They are of two kinds. On the one hand, he maintains that specific passages of Greek texts which seem to refer to completion of trials

for public offences in one day do not prove that this was true of all such trials; on the other hand, that the existence of some very long speeches and the use of several prosecutors

in some

cases would

have

made

it impracticable

to

complete every trial within one day. I take each of these arguments in turn, starting with the specific passages, and I begin with the Arhenaion Politeia, which I quote from Chambers’ Teubner edition: Ath. Pol. 67.1: ταῦτα δὲ ποιήσαϊντες εἰἰσκαλοῦσι τοὺς ἀγῶνας, ὅταν μὲν τὰ ἴδια [δικάζωσι, τοὺς ἰδίους, τῷ ἀριθμῶι 3, .... [ὅταν] δὲ τὰ δημόσια, τοὺς δημοσίοίυχ, καὶ Eva μόνον] ἐκδικάζίουσι.

(“When

they have done this, they call in the trials: when they judge

private matters, private trials, four in number, ... : when public matters, public trials, and they judge one only.”)

This passage is the one which comes nearest to saying that every trial for a public offence was completed in one day. It does come very near indeed, for

564

DOUGLAS M. MacDOWELL

ἐκδικάζουσι should have the sense “judge completely”. Worthington in effect concedes that it means completion in one day, but he suggests that it “need not

be read as a hard and fast rule”. It does seem to me that the author of Ath. Pol. is stating it as a rule, but Ath. Pol. is not a fully comprehensive work, and one cannot

maintain

that

this

statement

by

itself proves

that

there

were

no

exceptions. Ath. Pol. goes on to use the expression διαμεμετρημένη ἡμέρα, and this is

found also in some passages in the orators. (It appears also in Pollux 4.166 and in the lexica of Harpokration, Hesychios, Photios, and the Suda, but these all draw

their information

from Ath.Pol.

and

the orators,

and

are not worth

quoting here.) Ath. Pol. 67.3: [ὅταν δὲ] Alt npök διαμεμετρημίένην τὴν ἡμέραν] ἡ ôfixn, τότε δὲ οὐκ ἐπιλαμβάνει τὸν αὐλίσκον, ἀλλὰ δίδοται ti ἴσο]ν ὕδωρ τῷ τε κατηγοροῦντι καὶ τῷ ἀπολογ[ουμ]ένῳ.

(“When the day of the trial is ἃ measured-out one, then he does not stop the tube, but equal water is given to the prosecutor and to the defendant.”) Dem. 19.120: ἀγῶνας καινοὺς ὥσπερ δράματα, καὶ μεμετρημένην τὴν ἡμέραν αἱρεῖς διώκων.

τούτους

ἀμαρτύρους,

πρὸς

δια-

(“You prosecute and win new trials like plays, without witnesses too, with the day measured-out.”) Dem. 53.17: εἰσελθὼν εἰς τὸ δικαστήριον πρὸς ἡμέραν διαμεμετρημένην, καὶ ἐξελέγξας αὐτὸν τὰ ψευδῆ κεκλητευκότα καὶ τὰ ἄλλα ὅσα εἴρηκα ἠδικηκότα, εἶλον. (“I went to court, with ἃ measured-out day; I proved him guilty of false

testimony to a summons and of the other offences I have mentioned, and won the case.”) Aeschin. 2.126: πρὸς Evdexa γὰρ ἀμφορέας ἐν διαμεμετρημένῃ τῇ ἡμέρᾳ κρίνομαι. (“The time allowed for my trial is eleven amphoras in the day, which is a measured-out one.”)

THE LENGTH

Previously

I have

OF TRIALS FOR PUBLIC OFFENCES IN ATHENS

taken

διαμεμετρημένη

to

mean

“measured

565

through”,

“measured from beginning to end”, indicating that the whole day was used (e.g.

MacDowell

[1978]

249).

I now

think

it more

likely that

it means

“measured out in parts”, “distributed”, the point being that equal shares of the day were allocated to the prosecutor, to the defendant, and to the speeches on the penalty (which I believe to have been half as long as the principal speeches:

MacDowell

[1985] 525-526). But that hardly affects the present argument.

The details of the distribution were doubtless made clear in Ath. Pol. 67.4-5, but that part of the text is badly damaged. Possible restorations are admirably discussed by Rhodes

(1981) 723-728

and it is not necessary to go into the

details here. It is enough here to note that restorations have to start from the

briefer account of the distribution in another passage of Aischines. Aeschin. 3.197: εἰς τρία μέρη διαιρεῖται ἡ ἡμέρα, ὅταν εἰσίῃ γραφὴ παρανόμων εἰς τὸ δικαστήριον. ἐγχεῖται γὰρ τὸ μὲν πρῶτον ὕδωρ τῷ κατηγόρῳ καὶ τοῖς νόμοις καὶ τῇ δημοκρατίᾳ, τὸ δὲ δεύτερον (ὕδωρ) τῷ τὴν γράφην φεύγοντι καὶ τοῖς εἰς αὐτὸ τὸ πρᾶγμα λέγουσιν' ἐπειδὰν δὲ τῇ πρώτῃ ψήφῳ λυθῇ τὸ παράνομον, ἤδη τὸ τρίτον ὕδωρ ἐγχεῖται τῇ τιμήσει καὶ τῷ μεγέθει τῆς ὀργῆς τῆς ὑμετέρας. (“The day is divided into three parts, when a graphe paranomon comes into court. The first lot of water is poured in for the prosecutor, the laws,

and democracy: the second for the defendant in the graphe and those speaking on the actual case; and when the question of illegality is decided by the first vote, the third lot of water is poured in for the assessment of the penalty and the extent of your anger.”) I leave aside one

or two oddities in the details of Aischines’

account

(for

example, did the prosecutor not also speak on the actual case?); the point which is relevant here is that he is clearly describing divisions of a single day,

not of time extending over more than one day. Yes, but this sentence refers only to cases of graphe paranomon, as Worthington correctly observes. “Perhaps only γραφαὶ παρανόμων were settled in one day and other procedures (such as the ἀπόφασις against Demosthenes in 323) were tried over a longer duration”

(Worthington

[1989] 205). In reply to that, I would point out that all the

passages using the expression διαμεμετρημένη ἡμέρα use it in the singular; none of them mentions “measured-out days” in the plural. And at least two of them

refer to other kinds of public case: Aeschin. 2.126 belongs to a case of euthyna for misconduct

kleteias.

on an embassy,

while Dem.

53.17 refers to graphe pseudo-

566

DOUGLAS

M. MacDOWELL

One other passage telling against Worthington’s view is very fairly cited by

himself (Worthington [1992] 285). Pl. Ap. 37A: εἰ ἦν ὑμῖν νόμος, ὥσπερ καὶ ἄλλοις ἀνθρώποις, περὶ θανάτου μὴ μίαν ἡμέραν μόνον κρίνειν ἀλλὰ πολλάς ... (“If you had a law, as other people have, to try capital cases not over only one day but over many, ... ”.)

This passage clearly means that in Athens cases resulting in the death penalty are decided in one day. It does not explicitly say that this is true of all such cases without exception, but the contrast with “other people” probably implies that there are no exceptions in Athens. At the very least the restriction to one day must apply to graphe asebetas, which is the kind of case with which the

Apology is concerned. Worthington is right to say that not one of these texts states explicitly that

the trial of every public case, without exception, had to be completed in one day. But one or two of them come close to implying that, and they certainly

show that the one-day limit applied to several kinds of public case (not only graphe paranomon), including some so serious that they could lead to the death

penalty. None of them hints at any exceptions. So it is not surprising that most of us have concluded from them that the one-day limit did apply to all public

cases. I now turn to Worthington’s two positive reasons for taking the opposite view. The one which he seems to regard as the weightier is that in some trials there were several

prosecutors. In particular, there were ten prosecutors for

the trial of Demosthenes in 323: Stratokles spoke first, followed by the speaker of Deinarchos’

extant speech Against Demosthenes,

with Hypereides, whose

speech Against Demosthenes survives in fragments, somewhere later in the order (cf. Worthington [1992] 52-53). Worthington thinks it improbable that all ten could have spoken within one third of the time allowed for the trial, if the trial had to be completed in one day. Now, we do not know quite how much time

that would have been. Rhodes (1981) 726-727 gives reasons for thinking that the total amount

of time allowed

for speeches

may

have been

minutes, so that one third would work out at 2 hours (1991)

6 hours

36

12 minutes; Hansen

187 suggests that the prosecution would have had about 3 hours. But

whatever the exact length of time was, I do not see any difficulty in accommo-

dating ten prosecutors.

It is not to be supposed

that all ten made

long

speeches. Even if plenty of time had been available, they would not all have

THE LENGTH

OF TRIALS FOR PUBLIC OFFENCES

IN ATHENS

567

had different things to say, and the jury would have become bored and hostile. An effective short speech, making only one or two points, can be delivered in

five minutes. We could imagine, for example, three speakers taking half an hour each, with the other seven each speaking for only five minutes or less.

But the extant speech of Deinarchos Against Demosthenes could not have been delivered in half an hour. This brings us to Worthington’s other argument. The speech has 114 sections according to its modern numbering. Some

other surviving speeches are even longer. Demosthenes’ orations On the Crown and On the False Embassy each have over 300 sections. We do not know how quickly Demosthenes spoke, but I agree with Worthington that no one could deliver the whole of these texts, as we now have them, in two or three hours in a manner which would make them clear to a large audience.

But we have to consider how these texts originated. They are not transcripts of tape-recordings of what was said in court, nor did an Athenian speaker read

out his speech in court verbatim from his written original. For each of the texts we have to ask: is this a copy of the draft which the author wrote before the trial, or was it written down (or revised) after the trial was over? In some cases it is more or less clear that what we have is the draft written in advance

for a speech

to be delivered either by the writer himself or by

another man. The writer would plan the speech and write out what might be said; the speaker (whether it was the same man or someone else) would try to learn it by heart and then deliver in court as much as he could remember. He might remember much less than the whole of it. He might find that he had written more than he had time to deliver, so that some of it would have to be omitted. An experienced speaker, such as Demosthenes, might change his plan

and extemporize passages while he was actually speaking, according to the reception which he seemed to be getting from his audience. (For more detailed consideration of one instance see MacDowell

[1990] 23-28).

In other cases it is clear that what we have was written after the trial was over, even though it may incorporate passages written in advance. For example, Aischines at the beginning of his defence speech On the False Embassy, in the text we have, refers to what Demosthenes said in his prosecution

speech about Aischines’ maltreatment of an Olynthian lady, and expresses his pleasure that the jury “threw out” Demosthenes—that is, shouted him down (Aeschin. 2.4). Those words may have been spoken extempore at the trial, but only afterwards can they have been written down. In fact it may have been a quite common

practice to write out an improved

and polished version of a

speech for circulation after it was delivered, either to disseminate political or other views

or to enhance

the author’s

oratorical

reputation.

The

written

version of Demosthenes’ oration On the Crown, for instance, is a justification

568

DOUGLAS

M. MacDOWELL

of his whole political career, and may well be much longer and more elaborate

than what he said in court when defending Ktesiphon. I conclude that the written texts which survive, though containing much

material

which probably was spoken in court, are precarious evidence that it

actually was all spoken, and cannot be relied on as proof of the length of court speeches. On the other hand, the evidence of passages indicating that trials for public

offences

conclusive,

were

is much

each

completed

stronger.

in one

So, unless some

day,

even

if not

absolutely

evidence to the contrary is

discovered in future, we should continue to believe what Mogens Hansen has told us about the matter.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Hansen, M.H. 1991. The Athenian Democracy in the Age of Demosthenes (Oxford). MacDowell, D.M. 1978. The Law tn Classical Athens (London & Ithaca). MacDowell, D.M. 1985. “The Length of the Speeches on the Assessment of the Penalty in Athenian Courts,” CQ 35: 525-526. MacDowell, D.M. 1990. Demosthenes: Against Meidias (Oranon 21) (Oxford). Rhodes, P.J. 1981. A Commentary on the Anstotelian Athenaton Politeia (Oxford). Worthington, I. 1989. “The Duration of an Athenian Political Trial,” 7645 109: 204-207. Worthington, I. 1992. A Historical Commentary on Dinarchus (Ann Arbor).

The Basileus in Athenian Homicide Law! MICHAEL GAGARIN

Our information about the role of the basıleus in Athenian homicide law comes primarily from two sources: Drakon’s law and Antiphon 6 -- the first ἃ frag-

mentary inscription purporting to be a copy of a statute enacted ca. 620, the second a speech for the defense from a trial in 419/8. From such scanty evidence we can hardly hope to compile a thorough, authoritative account of the subject over several centuries, and so it should be understood at the outset that the following is, in my view, the most reasonable account allowed by the

evidence in the context of Archaic and Classical political and legal history. Drakon’s law survives on a marble stele, on which his homicide law was

reinscribed in 409/8 UG I’ 104).? After a preamble authorizing the republication, the law begins (11-13): καὶ ἐὰν μὴ ᾽κ προνοίας κτείνει τίς τινα, φεύγειν' δικάζειν δὲ τοὺς βασιλέας αἴτιον φόνου εἶναι τὸν ἐργασάμενον) ñ βουλεύσαντα: τοὺς δὲ ἐφέτας ὀιαγνῶναι (“even if someone kills someone unintentionally, he is to go into exile; the kings are to judge guilty of homicide the killer’ or the planner (instigator), and the ephera: are to decide the case”). I wiil leave aside most of the questions raised by this sentence,“ and will examine only the role

of the basileus, and specifically, why Drakon uses the plural basıleis and who these “kings” are. The law says that the basileis are to “judge” (dikazein) a homicide case and the ephetai are to “decide” (diagnonaz). Although scholars largely agree that the

ephetai have the main task of determining the verdict, opinions differ sharply about the task of the basileis as designated by the verb dikazein. In an influential article Hans Julius Wolff, drawing on parallels for this verb at other times and

places, argued that the baszlets preside over the case and pronounce the sentence that has been determined by the epherat.’ Others have argued that the settlement was divided into two stages and that during the first, preliminary

hearing (prodikasia) the basileis decided what issue would be tried or by what means it would be decided during the actual trial. Their task involved either formulating the issue as a single proposition that could be presented to the ephetai for a yes/no decision, or proposing a specific means

for reaching a

decision in the case, such as requiring one party to swear an oath.” In the absence

of any evidence for a two-stage judicial procedure

in Greece

(the

Roman mode! has no necessary relevance), this latter position has won little

470

MICHAEL GAGARIN

support; and although the variety of different meanings of dikazein before and after Drakon give us little hope of achieving certainty, Wolff's general approach is probably correct even if some

details need to be modified.

Before con-

sidering these details, however, we must tackle the question of the identity of

the dasilets. We know that there was only one basıleus in the Classical period; he is one of the nine annual archons, often called the “king archon”

(archon basileus),

though this expression is never used in the Greek sources. Among other tasks he presides over homicide cases. The office of bastleus appears to be at least as old as the seventh century and we never hear of more than one. However, if

this basileus alone supervised homicide

cases in Drakon’s time, why does

Drakon use the plural bastleis? Traditionally two explanations have been given: either basileis designates the (single) basileus in each successive year, who will

dikazein during his year in office, or in Drakon’s day several officials called bastleus decided homicide cases together; these may have included four who are later called phylobasileis (“tribal kings”).* Sealey (1994)

117-118 has recently

proposed a different solution: at this time, he suggests, a basileus was not yet a public official but a private person, and “if a public task ... was to be per-

formed by private agency, the agents might be plural.” Although our evidence for seventh-century Athens is perhaps too skimpy to rule out this idea completely, it seems very unlikely that the word dasileus, with its clear history of

designating the leaders of a community, would be used of a private individual,’ or that Drakon would use the definite article (“zhe kings”) unless a specific group of basileis could be identified. Surely the expression “the bastleis,” in conjunction with “the ephetai,” designates a known public official or group of public officials. This leaves the two traditional explanations. The objection to the first (that the plural includes the phylobasileis) is that it appears from Ath. Pol. 57.4 that in the fourth century the phylobasilets judge together with the bastleus only at the obscure court of the Prytaneion (which tried homicide cases where the killer was unknown,

an animal, or an inanimate object) and not in the other four

homicide courts;'” supporters reply that in this respect conditions may have changed in the intervening 300 years.'' The second explanation requires a very odd use of the plural, which normally, of course, designates more than one person. Two parallels for this use of the plural (16 IF 1174, I. Délos 4 1519) were cited long ago by Schöll (1875) 690 and these have continued to be cited ever since. Even Drakon’s

law

scholars who

grammatically

consider this interpretation impossible

have

not

directly

of the plural in challenged

the

paralleis.'? Careful consideration will show, however, that neither of Schöll’s alleged parallels is valid.

THE BASILEUS IN ATHENIAN HOMICIDE

LAW

571

IG II? 1174 records a decree from the Attic deme Halai Aixonides in 368,7. The

decree begins

(1-4): “So that the revenues for the demesmen

may be

secure, and demarchs and treasurers may give their accounts, the demesmen have decreed that ... ”'’ The plural “demarchs” is at first puzzling, since we are virtually certain that there was only one annual demarch per deme,'* and indeed,

according to a fairly secure restoration later in the inscription the new demarch (singular)

is to

administer

oaths

to

the

officials

who

will

supervise

the

accounting for the previous year.'” Upon reflection, however, we can see that the plural

is used because

decree, namely

this particular clause

states the purpose

of the

to prescribe a certain procedure for the future. The clause

envisions all future demarchs and treasurers giving their accounts, and thus the plural is used. When the text then describes the demarch’s duties, however, it envisions a generalized present time (as laws and decrees normally do) and

thus uses the singular in 1. 15 (and probably 4).'° Since, then, the basileis in Drakon’s

law

are

envisioned

as participating

in the

homicide

case

in a

generalized present time, the alleged parallel between Drakon’s law and the

plural in JG IT? 1174, |. 3 is a false one. I. Délos 4 1519 is a second century account of a meeting of a society (koinos) of Tyrian merchants and shipowners at which they grant special honors to a certain Patron who has helped them secure a piece of land on Delos for a temenos for Herakles. The inscription records that the society voted, among other honors, to award

Patron a gold crown every year at the sacrifices to

Poseidon, to give him free admission to all meetings that are held, etc. (35-45). The text continues (45-51), “let it be the duty of those archithiasitai [pl.] and treasurers who are in office and of the scribe to have this proclamation proclaimed at sacrifices and meetings that are held.” After the text of the required

proclamation come instructions for inscribing the decree, followed by (53-54),

“the treasurer and the archithiasttes [sing.) will share the cost of this.”!” It is clear from this second passage that there was only one treasurer and one archithiasites at any given time in Delos, but the decree uses the plural for both in 1. 46. Again, upon reflection we can see why. The second passage refers to

the single act of paying for the one-time inscription of the specified proclamation, whereas the first passage directs current and future officials to read this proclamation at sacrifices and meetings, whenever these may occur. Since the first passage designates activity that will occur not just once, but regularly during the coming years, it uses the plural to designate the present and future

officials together.'® Thus we can also rule out this text as a valid parallel for the plural basileis in Drakon’s law. Removing these parallels does not prove that the plural in Drakon’s law cannot designate a single basıleus and his future successors, but it does streng-

472

MICHAEL GAGARIN

then the argument for the natural understanding of the plural as designating

more than one. In establishing procedures, the law refers to a single trial, and there is thus no reason not to accept this natural implication, that more than one bastleus is to judge a case. And if this is the correct interpretation, then these may well be the officials who are later called the dasileus and the four phylobasileis. One of the most variable features in literary representations of the legal process is in the number and identity of the judges: elders on the shield of Achilles (Il. 18.503, perhaps with an istor), basıleis in Hesiod’s

Works and

Days (e.g. 38, 202), the basileus alone in Hesiod’s Theogony 80-91, Zeus in the

Hymn

to Hermes, etc. It would not be surprising to find a group of five in

Drakon’s time, with all of them designated basileis, even if one of the group

may have been the leader and the other four his subordinates. The revision of the nomenclature of such a group in the sixth century so that the title basıleus

applied only to the leader, with the other four being designated the phylobasiless, would not necessarily be noticed in our sources.

We must now return to our preliminary conclusion (following Wolff — see above)

that while

somehow

asserted

the ephera: decided

or

affirmed

the

the dispute

decision

by

(diagnonaï),

officially

the bastleis

“pronouncing”

(dikazein) the verdict.” If several, perhaps five, basileis took part in the activity designated by dikazein, it may seem unlikely that they merely pronounced the verdict that was decided by the ephetai. To be sure, it is possible that this role was all that remained of earlier, more extensive duties, which were now assigned to the ephetai or others, but one other factor suggests that there was

more to their role, namely the order of the provisions. If the bassleis simply affirmed the verdict of the ephetat, one would expect the law to read, “the

ephetai are to decide the case (dtagnonat) and the basileis are to pronounce (dikazein) the sentence,” rather than the other way around. The actual order thus suggests a rather larger role earlier in the trial, and it seems most likely that this would include at least some of the duties that we know from Ath. Pol. 57 were assigned to the (singular) basileus in the fourth century (see below), such as handling the preliminary proclamation, arranging for the trial, con-

ducting the preliminary hearings, and supervising the conduct of the trial (e.g. timing the speeches). If this is the case, then Drakon’s law directs that the

basileis “are to try the killer or the planner (instigator) as guilty of homicide,” and the ephetai are to decide the case.”

Whatever the precise duties of the basileis in Drakon’s time, the wording of ll. 11-13 suggests a rough equivalence between them and the epheta:, which

seems to represent an intermediate stage in the growth of the jury system of trial in Athens. Literary representations of judicial scenes in the Archaic period portray a wide range of different judges: the elders on the shield of Achilles

THE BASILEUS IN ATHENIAN

HOMICIDE

LAW

573

(perhaps with an istor), the (crooked) basileis in Hesiod’s Works and Days, the admired bastleus judging alone in Hesiod’s Theogony 80-91, Zeus as sole judge in the Hymn

to Hermes, etc. But nowhere do we see a group that judges by

voting, as the jury does. The fifty-one ephetai in Drakon’s law are our first sign of such a group, but they do not appear to have quite the absolute power they were to gain in the Classical period. The bastleis still have an important role, more

or less intermediary between

Hesiod’s

basileus or basileis, who

judge

without other officials and whose judicial and rhetorical ability is highly valued, and the Classical basileus, who has become a

relatively powerless functionary

(see below). The transition away from the highly respected basileus of the Theogony may have been spurred by the increasing distrust of the dasiets that

we see in the Works and Days. As people lost confidence in the kings’ fairness and intelligence, they did not eliminate their judicial role but redefined their duties and in Athens gave some to another group, the ephetai. This is perhaps

the earliest example we have of two separate authorities in a judicial pro-

cedure,”’ and Drakon seems to have envisioned the two groups working closely together. But as more jury courts were created and jurors were given more

authority, especially by Solon and Perikles, the role of the basileis continued to decline, perhaps not in terms of their specific duties but their authority, and their number was consequently reduced from five to one by the Classical period, to which we now turn.” The basileus in Classical Athens is a religious and judicial official, whose legal power, in my view, is restricted to that of an administrator — rather like

the chief clerk in an American court. Selected by lot for a non-renewable oneyear term, he supervises several religious festivals and lawsuits concerning impiety, religious disputes (e.g., over a priesthood), and homicide. These duties

are catalogued in Ath. Pol. 57,” more than half of which is devoted to homicide: the bastleus makes the official proclamation against the killer (57.2) and “introduces” (ezsager) the case, taking off his crown when he “judges” (dikazeï)

homicide cases (57.4). Here dikazei probably refers to his general oversight of the proceedings rather than a specific act, since the verb is also used in the

same sentence to designate the work of the jurors.”* Thus, litigants addressed their pleas to, and the verdict was decided by jurors — either the members of the Areopagos in cases of the intentional killing of a citizen, or the fifty-one

ephetat in other cases. The probably

included

making

duties of the bastleus were administrative and the proclamation,

handling the preliminary

ar-

rangements for a date and place for the trial, holding preliminary hearings (prodtkasia:), overseeing the trial itself (timing the speeches, counting the votes,

etc.) and perhaps declaring the verdict. These administrative duties conferred little power in themselves, but (as we all know) administrators with little power

574

MICHAEL GAGARIN

de jure can acquire considerable

de facto power,

and it remains

a disputed

question, just how powerful the basileus really was. The more common view is that he simply carried out his duties according to the law without a significant

effect on the case;”° but others have argued that he had significant power to determine if a homicide case could proceed and which court would

try the

case.?? The argument that the basileus had the power to reject a case is based on

Antiphon 6,” a defense speech written for a choregos or “producer” of a choral performance, who supervised and paid for the chorus boys’ training. The choregos is accused of unintentional homicide in the death of a chorus boy training in his house. He repeatedly protests, and (he says) his witnesses confirm, that he had nothing directly to do with the death and was not even

present when the fatal drink was given to the boy (probably in the hope of improving his voice). But the prosecution apparently alleged that the choregos’ overall supervision of the training made him responsible for the death and they accused

him

of “planning

the death”

(βουλεύσαντα

tov θάνατον,

6.16), an

expression normally implying conspiracy in an intentional act of killing.” When the prosecutor, according to the normal procedure, asked the basıleus to make

a formal proclamation

against the accused,

the basileus refused to

accept the case, claiming (we are told) that not enough time remained in his term for the three prodikasiai which were required by law to be held at monthly

intervals. He then read part of the law to the choregos’ accusers to support his position (6.38). The prosecutor objected but did not file a formal complaint against the basileus during the euthynai (“accounting”) at the end of his term. Did the law require him to accept, or prohibit him from accepting the case in these circumstances? Most likely the law did neither. Athenian laws were often vague

and

prohibited.

almost

never

systematic

about

exactly

what

was

required

It seems fairly certain that three prodikasiai were required,

or and

under normal circumstances the same basileus would conduct all three; but Carlier (1984) 345 may be right that the first basıleus could have made a formal proclamation

against

the

choregos

if he had

wished,

leaving

one

or more

prodtkasiai and the final oversight of the case to his successor. On the other hand, the law surely did not explicitly require the basıleus to take action, or else the choregos’ opponents would have lodged a formal complaint at the basteus’

euthynai hearing.” This suggests that when fewer than three months remained in his term, the

basıleus may have had the power to decide whether or not to file a formal proclamation, but at other umes he probably had no choice. The traditional practice may have been for him to issue a proclamation banning the accused from most public places, even if there was little time remaining in his term of

THE BASILEUS IN ATHENIAN

office,

and

this would

make

sense

HOMICIDE LAW

in most

cases

575

of homicide,

since

the

proclamation would satisfy considerations of pollution.” But in a questionable case like Anuphon 6 the bastleus could use his discretion and refuse to file a formal charge. And if the legal requirement was not clear, other factors, such as the bastleus’ estimate of the strength of the case, or his relationship to the

plaintiff, may also have contributed to the decision. We can only speculate why he refused in this specific case. The other area where the bastleus may have had some discretion is the allocation of a case to one of the three main homicide courts (the Areopagos,

the Palladion, or the Deiphinion).”” Most scholars now conclude that “allocation of a case to a particular court depended ... on the nature of the charge and the defence offered”;?* the basileus could not affect the decision. The pro-

secution charged the accused with either intentional or unintentional homi-

cide,” and the case was tried by the Areopagos or the Palladion respectively,*® unless the defense then pleaded that the killing was lawful, in which case it was tried at the Delphinion.” Carlier (1984) 347-348 maintains, however, that the bastleus could refuse to transfer a case to the Delphinion even if the accused pleaded lawful homicide. He cites Lysias 1.30, where Euphiletos reads a law

(whose text is now lost) from a stele on the Areopagos and adds, “you have heard how the court of the Areopagos ... has explicitly said that someone shall not be convicted ofhomicide ifhe catches an adulterer in bed with his wife and

takes this sort of vengeance

[i.e. kills him]” (ἀκούετε,

ὦ ἄνδρες, ὅτι αὐτῷ τῷ

δικαστηρίῳ τῷ ἐξ ᾿Αρείου πάγου ... διαρρήδην εἴρηται τούτου μὴ καταγιγνώσκειν φόνον, ὃς ἂν ἐπὶ δάμαρτι τῇ ἑαυτοῦ μοιχὸν λαβὼν ταύτην τὴν τιμωρίαν ποιήσηται). Carlier concludes that the law cited must envision a case being tried by the Areopagos

in which

the

defendant

pleads

lawful

homicide

(and

thus

is

acquitted), but more likely Euphiletos is just paraphrasing a law that says that a person who kills under certain circumstances is not to be punished.” There is no reason to think the basileus could assign a case to the Areopagos when the defendant pleaded lawful homicide and cited a recognized reason, nor would there be any point in his doing so, since if the Delphinion decided against the defendant’s

plea

of lawful

homicide,

he

would

surely

stand

convicted

of

homicide. Carlier (1984)

347-348

suggests that there would be no need for three

prodikasiat if allocation to one of the courts followed automatically from the

two pleas, but in addition to allowing the two sides to prepare for the trial, one purpose (perhaps the main purpose) of these prodikasiai was probably to delay

a case long enough for the parties, guided by the basileus, to come

to a

reconciliation. Indeed, this might have been the bastleus’ greatest power. We should note that in Antiphon 6, after the first basileus had refused to proceed,

576

MICHAEL GAGARIN

the parties were reconciled (6.38-40, 44-46), and it is possible that the basudeus

played a role in this. Thus, if the basileus had any real power, it probably lay less in his technical ability to refuse a case at certain times than in his informal

ability to reconcile the parties during the preliminary proceedings. But as far as we can tell, the formal power of the basıleus to affect

a homicide case was

minimal. These observations do not constitute a full history of the Athenian bastleus

or his legal duties. But the evidence we have examined does tend to confirm the traditional view that the office of basıleus in Athens underwent a substantial diminution from the pre-Drakonian period to the fourth century. At the earliest stage the Athenian bastleus may have resembled a Homeric bastleus,

whose ability to settle disputes earned him the respect suggested in the proem to the Theogony; in Drakon’s law the basileus (with the phylobasileis) appears to

have equal standing with the ephetai in a homicide case, though his duties are different from

theirs; in the Classical

period

the basileus is simply an ad-

ministrator with little formal power to affect homicide cases, though he may exercise informal authority in some cases. In this way his work might resemble that of the Homeric basileus, but since fourth-century litigants could always refuse informal settlements in favor of a formal trial, the dastleus’ authority in

the Classical period was considerably less than in Homer. This was consistent with the democratic ideology of amateur government, in which administrators were always subordinate to the will of the dernos, so that the forma! verdict lay

entirely in the hands of jurors, guided only by the arguments

of the two

litigants.

The gradual replacement of the judges’ competition we see on the shield of Achilles by a verdict rendered by majority vote made the litigants’ rhetorical competition

increasingly important.

And

not surprisingly,

as the locus

of

rhetorical power shifted from the judges to the litigants, the elite shifted their Participation in the judicial process from the former role to the latter. In our sources, at least, most litigants are members

of the elite, while the office of

basileus - in Homer a distinction of the elite — survives into the Classical period

in Athens only as an empty reminder of past glory. The king has become a commoner.

THE BASILEUS IN ATHENIAN HOMICIDE LAW

577

BIBLIOGRAPHY Bonner, R.J. ἃ Smith, G. (Chicago). Carlier, P.

1984.

1938.

The Administration of Justice from Homer to Aristotle 1

La royauté en Grèce avant Alexandre,

Etudes

et travaux publiés par le

groupe de recherche d’histoire romaine de l'université des sciences humaines de Strasbourg, 6 (Strasbourg). Dareste, R., & Hassoullier, B. & Reinach, Th. 1891-1904. Recueil des inscnipnons juridiques grecques I-II (Paris). Foxhall, L. & Lewis, A.D.E. (eds.). 1996. Greek Law in its Political Setting: Fustifications Not Fusnce (Oxford) Gagarin, M.

1981. Drakon and Early Athenian Homicide Law (New Haven).

Gagarin, M. 1990. “Bouleusis in Athenian Homicide Law,” in Nenci & Thür (1990) 81-99. Gagarin, M. (ed.). 1997. Anniphon. The Speeches (Cambridge). MacDowell, D.M. 1963. Athenian Homicide Law tn the Age of the Orators (Manchester). Nenci, G. & Thür, G. (eds.} 1990. Symposion 1988. Vorträge zur griechischen und hellenistischen Rechtsgeschichte (Cologne) Rhodes, P.J. 1981.

A Commentary on the Anistotelian Athenaion Politeia (Oxford).

Schôll, R. 1875. Review of several works, in Jenaer Literaturzeitung 2.39: 688-691. Sealey, R. 1994. The Justice of the Greeks (Ann Arbor). Stroud, R. 1968. Drakon’s Law on Homicide (Berkeley). Todd, S.C. 1993. The Shape of Athenian Law (Oxford). Thür, G. 1996. “Oaths and Dispute Settlement in Ancient Greek Law,” in Foxhall & Lewis (1996) 57-72, Whitehead, D. 1986. The Demes of Amıca 508/7-ca. 250 B.C. (Princeton). Wolff, H.J. 1946. “The Origin of Judicial Litigation among the Greeks,” Traditio 4: 31-87

NOTES 1.

This paper grew out of a conference on “Kingship and the Organization of Power in Greek Society” held at the University of Texas in December 1993. It originated as a response to Raphael Sealey, whose views on the basieis in Drakon’s law have now appeared in print in his book The Justice of he Greeks (see below). The proceedings of this conference were accepted for publication by the University of Texas Press, and it is this anticipated publication (under the title “Kings and the Law in Archaic and Classical Greece”) to which I have several times referred in print as forthcoming; e.g. in the Bibliography for my commentary on Antiphon (Gagarin [1997] 254). When it was decided not to publish the conference proceedings together in one volume, I was very pleased to be able to revise my contribution for inclusion in a volume

honoring Mogens

Hansen. His personal interest some twenty years ago in my book on Drakon and my other early work on Athenian law did much to inspire my own continued interest in the subject, and his own

work in this area remains fundamental to all who have followed. That the reinscription is a generally faithful copy of Drakon’s original law is accepted by, e.g., Stroud (1968) and Gagarin (1981). Different supplements have been proposed for the gap in line 12, but it is generally agreed that it contained some term for the actual killer in contrast to the “planner.”

2. 3. .

5.

See the discussion in Gagarin (1981),

Wolff (1946) 71-78, followed by, e.g., Stroud (1968) 44-45; cf. Carlier (1984) 344 n. 114.

MICHAEL GAGARIN

578

eens

Sealey (1994) 118-119. See Thür (1996) esp. 71. See Stroud (1968) 45-47 for references to previous scholars.

“Public” and “private” were probably not so clearly distinguishable in Drakon’s time as later, but the ephetai, who are specified as fifty-one later in Drakon’s law, certainly seem to be a public body, and it is hard to see how the basıleis could be private. This is the most natural, though perhaps not the only interpretation of Ath. Pol. 57.4; we have no other evidence for the pkylobasıleis in Athenian homicide courts in the Classical period, but

they may have had duties that we do not hear of. See Carlier (1984) 350 with n. 147. E.g. Bonner & Smith (1938)

116-117; Dareste εἰ al. (1891-1904)

2.12-13.

ὅπως Rv τά τε κοινὰ σᾶ Wh τοῖς δημόταις Kafl τὰς εὐθύνας διδῶσιν οἱ δήμαρχοι Kall οἱ ταμίαι δεύόϊόχθαι τοῖς δημόταις, κτλ. (the articles in οἱ δήμαρχοι and οἱ ταμίαι are probably generic). The text continues (4-5): [τὸν δημάρχον καὶ τὸς ταμίας τὸν λόγίον ... ἐμβάλλειν, κτλ. (“the demarch and the treasurers are to deposit their accounting, etc.”); recent editors restore the plural (τὸς δημάρχος) in |. 4, apparently to match the plural of |. 3, but epigraphically and grammatically the

singular is equally possible and, in my view, more likely. As in other demes, Halai Aixonides had more than one tamias; see Whitehead

(1986)

143 n. 144.

14.

Whitehead (1986) 58-59 with n. 85.

15.

LI. 15-16: ἐξορκούτω [δὲ ὁ δήμαρχος τὸν εὔθυνον Kal τὸς παιρέδρος κτλ. (“the demarch shall administer the oath to the ‘controller’ and his assistants etc.”). A singular noun (δήμαρχος) must

be restored because of the singular verb; and although some other official may possibly have administered the oath, this task would normally fall to the demarch. 16.

We might imagine a declaration in the United States today stating, “In order that Presidents and

members of Congress may be free of political influence, it is decreed that they shall not serve more than one term; the President and the members of Congress shall jointly decide on the length of terms for each.” Here the plural in the first instance can be understood to designate anyone

who might now or in the future occupy the position of President; in the second instance, however, the singular must be used, because a plural (“the Presidents and members of Congress”) would have to mean that more than one President would join Congress therefore that there are at least two Presidents.

in making

a decision,

and

17.

1 Delos 4 1519, Ut. 45-54: ἐπιμελὲς δὲ ἔστω τοῖς καθισταμένοις ἀρχιθϑιασίταις καὶ ταμίαις καὶ τῶι γραμματεὶ ὅπωςἐν ταῖς γινομέναις θυσίαις καὶ συνόδοις ἀνα γορεύηται κατὰ ταύτην τὴν ἀναγόρευσινἡ σύνοδος τῶν Τυρίων ἐμπόρων καὶ ναυκλήρων στεφανοῖ Πάτρωνα Δωροθέου εὐεργέτην. ἀναγραψάτωσαν δὲ τόδε τὸ ψήφισμα εἰς στήλην λιθίνην καὶ στησάτωσαν ἐν τῶι τεμένει τοῦ ᾿Ηρακλέους" τὸ δὲ ἐσόμενον ἀνάλωμα, εἰς ταῦτα μερισάτω ὁ ταμίας καὶ ὁ ἀρχιθιασίτης.

18.

The participles καθισταμένοις (“those who are in office”) and γινομέναις (“those [sacrifices and meeungs] that are held”) help make clear the recurring nature of these activities and thus the need for the plural. Use of the singular “scribe” in |. 47, however, to which the participle clearly does not apply, indicates that unlike the other two positions, the scribe did not serve only for a year; the decree envisions the same person holding this office indefinitely.

19.

Wolff (1946) 76-77: “His [the bastleus’) δικάζειν was a decree by which he merely allowed or forbade self-help, after a court convoked and presided over by him had issued a verdict as to the

20.

Or perhaps, returning to an older interpretation of the Greek letters as αἰτιῶν (not αἴτιον ~ see Wolff [1946] 72-73), “on charges of homicide.”

21.

There may be a possible exception in the scene on Achilles’ shield, if the istor and the elders have

22.

The changes that were made between 620 and 409/8 meant that homicide procedure no longer

existence or non-existence of a right to use self-help.”

significant separate duties; see Carlier (1984)

176.

followed the precise wording of the reinscribed statute in certain respects, such as the number of basıleis. But most of the procedure seems to have remained relatively similar, and changes such as these could have been specified by amendment 23.

In Politics 3.14 Aristotle describes five resemblance to the Athenian basileus.

kinds

(if they were not simply understood). of kings

(basileis),

none

of which

bears

any

THE BASILEUS IN ATHENIAN HOMICIDE LAW 24. 25. 26. 21. 28.

579

εἰσάγει δ' ὁ βασιλεύς, καὶ δικάζουσι ν ἐν ἱερῷ καὶ ὑπαίθριοι, καὶ ὁ βασιλεὺς ὅταν δικάζῃ περιαιρεῖται τὸν στέφανον; see Rhodes (1981) 648. See MacDowell E.g., MacDowell

(1963) 34-38. loc. cır.; Todd (1993) 82 with ἢ. 8.

Carlier (1984) 344-348. See my commentary on this speech (in Gagarin [1997]), where parts of the argument of this paper are summarized.

29.

The

natural

explanation

of this charge

(leaving the text intact)

is that the prosecution

took

advantage of a provision as old as Drakon’s law, that a person who “plans” a homicide is just as guilty as the actual killer (JG I’ 104, 12-13 [see above]; cf. Andoc. 1.94). Citing this provision of the law, they brought their case, even chough the facts would not normally be thought sufficient for prosecution, since βουλεύειν implied greater involvement in a crime than is apparent in this case; see further Gagarin (1990) esp. 95-96.

30.

This may suggest that the basıleus’ refusal was unusual, but Carlier (1984) 345 n. 119 is misleading in stressing that the dastleus could not cite one law that in itself proved his position but

had to argue for his position. Rarely in Athenian law (or in other legal systems) does a single law establish a legal point beyond argument. 31.

Carlier (1984) 345 suggests that perhaps the accuser did not file a formal complaint because “he did not see what immediate profit he might get from it”; but if, as Carlier’s scenario requires, the basileus was an ally of the choregos, then an accusation against the basilews would be an indirect

32. 33.

34. 35.

attack on the choregos, and Athenians rarely passed up an opportunity to attack their political enemies. Carlier (1984) 346. lignore the Prytaneion (for unknown

killers, animals, and inanimate objects) and the court “in

Phreatto” (for cases involving exiles), since the grounds for assigning cases to these courts are unproblematic; see MacDowell (1963) 82-89. MacDowell (1963) 73. E.g., Ant. 6.19: “the prosecutors agree that the boy’s death was both unintentional and unpremeditated” (αὐτοὶ οἱ κατήγοροι ὁμολογοῦσι μὴ ἐκ προνοίας pnd’ ἐκ παρασκευῆς γενέσθαι τὸν θάνατον); cf. Ant. 3.1.1.

36.

37.

Each court judged only the issue presented to it. Since a juror could cast his vote only for the

defendant's guilt or innocence, there was no means whereby the Areopagos could acquit a defendant accused of intentional homicide but find him guilty of unintentional homicide. So Ath. Pol. 57.3 tells us that the case goes to the Delphinion, “if someone agrees that he killed [a person] but says he did it according to the laws” (ἐὰν δ᾽ ἁ ποκτεῖναι μέν τις ὁμολογῇ, Φῇ δὲ κατὰ τοὺς νόμους).

38.

This may well be the law cited in Dem. 23.53, which uses the same Archaic phrase as Lys. 1.30 for “in bed with his wife” (ἐπὶ δάμαρτι), but does not imply that the Areopagos formulated the law: “if someone kills someone ... in bed with his wife ... he is not to be exiled” (ἐάν τις ἀποκτείνῃ

… ἐπὶ δάμαρτι ... μὴ φεύγειν κτείναντα). This law was probably included with the homicide laws that were inscribed at the Areopagos as well as in the agora. Carlier rightly rejects MacDowell's interpretation of Lysias 1.30 (MacDowell [1963] 72-73).

“Investigations and Reports” by the Areopagos Council and Demosthenes’ Areopagos Decree

ROBERT W. WALLACE

In 323

BC,

during

Demosthenes’

trial in the Harpalos

affair, Deinarchos

(1.61-63) notes that Demosthenes had written a decree “against fhim]self”,

when he proposed that the Areopagites be his “judges and investigators” (kritai kai zetetat) and report (apophainetn) to the people if he was guilty of embezzling funds.' “Furthermore, you yourself, Demosthenes, earlier proposed (proteron

egrapsas) that against all these people [the dikasts? the other defendants?] and the other Athenians

the Areopagos

be authorized to punish

(kyria kolasai)

anyone who transgresses the laws, using the ancestral (parroiois)? laws. It was you who surrendered and handed over the whole city to this council, which you are about to say is oligarchic. Because of your decree two of the citizens

died, a father and son, handed over to the man at the pit (orygma). One of the descendants of Harmodios was imprisoned because of your order (prostagma).

These (dikasts) tortured Antiphon and killed him, persuaded by the apophasis (report) of the council. You drove Charinos (Archinos codd.) out of the city because of the apophasets and punishments of the council.”

Twice elsewhere in this speech Deinarchos appears to refer to Demosthenes’ Areopagos decree. In 1.83, after presumably one part of that decree had been read out, Deinarchos states: “Did you propose (egrapsas) this, Demosthenes? You did; you cannot deny it. Was the council given authority (kyria) on your

motion? It was. Have men of the citizens been executed? They have. Did your decree have authority (kyrios) over them? You cannot deny it.” In 1.6, Deinarchos implies that in 323 the Areopagos was competent (kyria) “to banish or

punish with death those of the people in the city who have done something illegal (paranomon).” This presumably also refers to Demosthenes’ measure.’

Various questions are raised by these passages. What was the scope of Demosthenes’ decree? Did it in fact authorize the Areopagos to punish anyone

who violated any law? What was its date, and its purpose? In 1.61-62 Deinarchos mentions the decree in the context of the Areopagos’s investigations (zeteseis) and reports

(apophasets). What

was

the relationship between

De-

mosthenes’ decree and these activities? The tangle of problems raised by these questions has resulted in several alternative reconstructions, each with merit

582

ROBERT W. WALLACE

but none free of problems. Among other points, further elucidation of these issues

will

help

to

document

the

deterioration

of Athens’

relations

with

Macedon in the years between 346, when Athens made peace and an alliance with Philip, and 340, when it declared war on him. To begin, two different dates and contexts have been suggested for Demosthenes’ Areopagos decree: before the fall of 343, the date of Demosthenes’ On

the False Embassy which may refer to a case brought under its provisions;* or after the battle of Chaironeia in 338, when the Areopagos executed an uncertain number of traitors.” Lykourgos (1.52) spoke of those executions in 330: “The Areopagos

Council -- and let no one raise a hubbub against me, for I

think this council was then the greatest salvation for the city — seized and killed those who fled the fatherland and abandoned it to the enemy.” According to Aischines (3.252), “a certain private citizen who merely undertook to sail to

Samos was on the same day punished with death by the Areopagos, as a traitor to his country.” The post-Chaironeia date for Demosthenes’ decree is supported by several arguments, all of them circumstantial but nonetheless significant. As Hansen has shown, fourth-century Athenians almost always enacted general measures through nomot. Except in emergencies, decrees were used for individual cases

or provisions of limited duration.° This suggests that Demosthenes passed his decree during an emergency.

It also suggests one explanation why a decree

giving the Areopagos life-and-death authority over all Athenians ostensibly for any offense could escape successful challenge by a graphe paranomon. Just so,

in 338 Hypereides was acquitted in a suit paranomon for proposing that arimoi, metics and slaves be enfranchised.’ According to Deinarchos

(1.6), we have

seen, Demosthenes’ decree appears to have authorized the Areopagos to execute or exile lawbreakers. The Areopagos certainly could have executed traitors in 338 on that authority. In his review of Worthington’s Dinarchus, Edward Harris advances a further argument for the 338 dating.‘ In 1.78 Deinarchos says, “I want you also, Athenians, to hear that other decree (kakeinou tou psephismatos) moved by Demosthenes, that decree which this democratic statesman proposed when the city was in disorder after the battle of Chaironeia” (trs. Burtt). In 1.78-80 Deinarchos has the decree read out, and he mentions as its contents that Demos-

thenes remain in arms, that citizens unfit for military service do their work or whatever Demosthenes thinks is called for, and that the ambassadors set out, including Demosthenes.

Harris contends that when Deinarchos later quotes

a part of Demosthenes’ Areopagos provisions in 1.83, this was a part of the same decree. I do not believe that it can be. In 1.78-80 Deinarchos expressly says that he

“INVESTIGATIONS AND REPORTS” BY THE AREOPAGOS COUNCIL

has ordered

the clerk to read out the whole

of the

338

measure,

583

but his

description of that measure includes no mention of the Areopagos, and he would hardly have major sections of this same decree read out again a few

paragraphs later. In 1.80 Deinarchos says that Demosthenes just went off after appointing himself ambassador, “without a thought for the plight we were in.”

Would

he have said this if he was about to read out a provision for the

protection of Athens which Demosthenes provided by an Areopagos decree? In 1.62-63 Deinarchos discussed Demosthenes’ Areopagos decree in detail. With

the phrase

“that other decree

(kakeinou

tou psephismatos)

moved

by

Demosthenes” in 1.78, he signals that he has turned to a different measure. Therefore, 1.82-83 cannot support a post-Chaironeia dating for Demosthenes’ Areopagos decree.

A final argument for dating Demosthenes’ decree after Chaironeia must also be discounted. Virtually all scholars date [Dem.]

59 to the years 343-340."

According to 59.80, the Areopagos wanted to fine the basileus Theogenes for offending against Athens’ sacred rites “but in secret, and with a due regard for appearances. For they have no final authority (ou gar autokratores etsin: present tense) to punish any of the Athenians as they see fit.” This has been taken to

imply that Demosthenes’ decree was not yet in force when this speech was delivered. However, three problems arise. First, as we shall see, there is some reason to suppose that Demosthenes’ decree did not authorize (or else was not

thought to have authorized) the Areopagos to punish any criminal. Second, even on the conventional dating for In Neaeram (343-340) and the assumption

that the passage quoted is inconsistent with Demosthenes’ decree, In Neaeram need not exclude a date as early as 342 for that measure. Third, within likely termim of 346 and 340, the 343-340

date for In Neaeram

is uncertain

(see

Appendix 1 below). As we shall see, even assuming inconsistency, In Neaeram

80 would not preclude a date as early as 345 for the Areopagos decree. At least four indications, by contrast, work against a post-Chaironeia date

for Demosthenes’

measure. First, as Lykourgos indicates, the Areopagos’s

executions in 338 were so highly controversial that as much as eight years later the mere mention of them might provoke an outburst from the dikasts. These

executions almost certainly led to Eukrates’ anti-Areopagite law of 337/6 (SEG 12 87), which implies that the Athenians were afraid the Areopagos would

cooperate with a tyranny (see Wallace [1989] 179-184). If in the emergency the demos had just authorized the Areopagos to execute traitors, why were they

so unhappy when it did so? The Areopagos may well have executed citizens in 338 on the basis of Demosthenes’

decree, but that decree had been passed

earlier, under different circumstances, and for different purposes. In 338 the

demos was furious when the decree was abused.

584

ROBERT W. WALLACE

Second,

as we

Athenians,

have

seen,

in

1.78

Deinarchos

to hear that other decree moved

says,

“I want

you

by Demosthenes,

also,

that decree

which this democratic statesman proposed when the city was in disorder after

the battle of Chaironeia.” If in 1.62-63 Deinarchos had cited and discussed in detail another would

decree which

Demosthenes

he identify the current

had proposed

one in this fashion?

after Chaironeia,

As we

have

also seen,

Deinarchos goes on to say that after this decree was passed, Demosthenes “ran away from the city .. . without a thought for the plight we were in” (1.81). In

18.248 Demosthenes himself lists his various decrees after Chaironeia for the defense of the city. He does not mention the Areopagos decree. Third,

some

scholars

(and

I myself)

have

argued

that all four cases in

Deinarchos 1.62-63 were brought as a result of Demosthenes’ decree. The case of Antiphon

seems

to belong

in 343

(see Appendix

2), and

the

case

of

Charinos occurred sometime before 343-340 (his condemnation for prodosia is mentioned in [Dem.] 58.38, dated sometime between late summer 343 and 340). If this were right, then Demosthenes’ decree belongs before Anuphon’s trial in 343. However, I am persuaded by Hansen ([1991a] 291-292), Rhodes

({1995] 313 n. 57) and others that the cases of Antiphon and Charinos need not have been a consequence of that decree. Despite uncertainties over the meaning of the phrase “to punish any” Athenian, this does not look like the power merely to report, as the Areopagos did in the cases of Antiphon and

Charinos. Probably Deinarchos shifts from cases brought by Demosthenes’ decree to two apophasis cases also linking Demosthenes with the Areopagos, because only apophasıs was directly relevant to the trial of 323. Yet it remains striking

that

in the

mention

two

cases

context both

of Demosthenes’

of which

occurred

decree

as much

Deinarchos

should

as five years before

Chaironeia. If the audience identified that decree with events in 338, this might have struck them as curious, and the two cases out of context. Finally,

“anyone

Demosthenes’

who

measure

transgresses

is expressly

the laws,”

directed

rather than

against

criminals,

the traitors whom

the

Areopagos pursued in 338. This discrepancy could be explained by supposing

that Demosthenes’ measure was phrased generally, in defense of law and order. It could be argued, for example, that in the emergency, staffing the dikasteries was difficult or too expensive, but some provision for legal enforcement had to be provided. Areopagos’s

Nonetheless, emergency

once

actions

again the fit between in 338

is not

the decree

altogether happy.

and We

the have

evidence only that the Areopagos pursued traitors in 338, not that it was involved

in the wider

administration

directly state that the Areopagos prisoned

the descendant

of justice.

Deinarchos

also does

not

itself executed the father and son, or im-

of Harmodios.

Although

Deinarchos

stresses the

“INVESTIGATIONS AND REPORTS” BY THE AREOPAGOS

COUNCIL

585

enormous powers which Demosthenes’ decree gave to the Areopagos, he uses

only impersonal, passive verbs (“died, handed over,” “was imprisoned”), in contrast to the Areopagos’s vigorous actions after Chaironeia. As we shall see, these verbs may well be consistent with the more

limited powers

that the

Areopagos may have exercised as a result of Demosthenes’ decree.'” These considerations I believe raise doubt about a post-Chaironeia date for

Demosthenes’ decree, which is anyway supported by circumstantial arguments only. The outcry at the Areopagos’s executions in 338 makes it unlikely that the decree was passed afterwards. Hence the decree best belongs sometime in the years 346-340. We must then consider how the Athenians could pass a decree of general import in that period, and why the decree did not attract a

graphe paranomon. We are not yet finished with questions of chronology. The scope of Demosthenes’

decree is no less controversial than its date.

Some scholars have argued that Deinarchos’s wording may be exaggerated and

that the Areopagos was not authorized (kyria) to punish any criminal.'' Deinarchos’s repeated insistance on the terms of the decree argues that he is reproducing at least part of it accurately. However, in this speech Deinarchos

had excellent reasons to stress the Areopagos’s authority, since in the present trial his opponent Demosthenes was attempting to avoid its verdict. Several times

(1.6, 86,

87)

Deinarchos

asks indignantly whether

the Areopagos’s

verdict in the Harpalos affair should be akyros. In 104 he notes that Demades did not propose a decree making the Areopagos kyrios over him. But in fact the

Areopagos had no actual authority in Demosthenes’ case: it was akyros. Several arguments suggest that the Areopagos had not so extensive a man-

date as Deinarchos suggests. First, either before or after Chaironeia the Areopagos seems to exercise final authority in none of the cases outside its normal

jurisdiction. Perhaps in 343 (Appendix 2) the demos let Antiphon go, but the Areopagos, “seeing that [the Athenians’] ignorance had come at an inoppor-

tune moment, examined the person further, arrested him, and brought him again before” them (Dem.

18.132-134). The Areopagos apparently had no

final authority over Antiphon, even in a case of treason. Probably in 324/3 it

judged Polyeuktos guilty of dealing with Athenian exiles in Megara, an offense that could also be construed as treason. It reported him to the demos, who

again let him go.'? The Areopagos could not even manage to punish its own members. Despite its recommendations, the people acquitted Areopagites who variously robbed a ferryman, wrongly claimed another’s allowance, or sold the

“Areopagite portion” (Din. 1.56-57). According to Deinarchos, Demosthenes’ decree was still in force in 323, but there are no indications that the Council

ever acted upon that authority except perhaps in 338. Clever scholars can always wriggle out from under the weight of these considerations. Thus, the

586

ROBERT W. WALLACE

Areopagos could have been so discredited in 338 that afterwards it did not dare to act; and the Antiphon incident may have preceded Demosthenes’ measure. Read straight, they imply that Demosthenes’ decree did not confer so much authority on the Areopagos as Deinarchos suggests. It also seems clear that the Areopagos did not view the decree as a mandate to try every type of offense. The two cases that Deinarchos mentions in 1.6263 both appear to have involved treason.'” No new judicial activity outside this

area is attested for the Areopagos during this period. This is surely important. Demosthenes’ Areopagos

overriding interest also was in foreign policy. Given that the

only

acted

against

traitors

and

this must

also have

been

De-

mosthenes’ intention, why did he give his decree such broad wording?

A consideration of apophasis will help to shed light on these issues. What was the scope of this procedure, when was it introduced, and why? As Hansen

([1991a}

292) and others have observed, apophasis (“report”)

describes only one part of this procedure.

The Areopagos

also investigated

(ezetei), sometimes on its own initiative, sometimes on instructions from the demos. As the case of Theogenes report to the Assembly

shows

only when

([Dem.]

59.80), it was obliged to

its guilty verdict

specified

a monetary

penalty higher than some unknown (but fixed) sum. We mostly hear of cases where the Areopagos did report; hence the current name. The procedure is

more accurately called zetesis and apophasis. Most scholars agree that zetesis and apophasts was introduced in the 340s. This should probably be modified. Neaira’s daughter Phano was brought to Athens as a paidarion mikron in 371 ([Dem.] 59.37-38, 50). Her first marriage, to a workman

named

Phrastor who

after “about a year”

dismissed her as

dissolute (50-51), can have occurred not earlier than the later 360s. Afterwards she was involved in the blackmail of Epainetos (64-71), and then she marned Theogenes (72ff.). The Theogenes episode seems not to have been especially recent when Apollodoros recounted it perhaps in the mid 340s (Appendix 1).

It is reasonable to date it, and hence the Areopagos’s first attested zetesis, in the mid- to later 350s, when Phano was in her twenties. From Deinarchos 1.55 (the Areopagos “investigates cases which you assign to it and crimes committed by its members”), some scholars have suggested

that the Areopagos’s investigations on its own initiative were directed primarily towards

Areopagites.

Theogenes

incidents

As

Bruyn

indicate

([1995]

145-146)

that this is incorrect.

says, the Antiphon Deinarchos

and

(1.50-51)

himself proposes that Areopagites attest that they had not investigated him on their own initiative. He does not object that such a procedure was impossible. The Antiphon and Theogenes incidents both occurred before 340. It is easy

to imagine that after Chaironeia the Areopagos might not have investigated

“INVESTIGATIONS AND REPORTS”

many

BY THE AREOPAGOS

citizens without instructions from the demos.

Deinarchos

COUNCIL

Hence,

§87

the phrasing of

1.55 may have been consistent with contemporary practice.

What is the relationship of zetests and apophasıs to Demosthenes’ decree? As I have said, the power “to punish any” lawbreaker does not very obviously

resemble the power

“to investigate and report.” Hence

it is unlikely that

Demosthenes’ decree introduced the zetesis and apophasis procedure.'* Did the

institution of zetesis and apophasis require a general, preliminary enabling law or decree, or at any time could the Assembly have asked the Areopagos to investigate any case? Several arguments and parallels suggest that zetesis and

apophasis was not instituted by either law or decree. Certainly a decree of that type would have constituted a general measure, not normally associated with

psephismata. There is also no sign that the procedure was challenged by a graphe paranomon.

In

1.4 Deinarchos

states that such

investigations

were

patrion, “traditional,” for the Areopagos. He might not have said this if they had been specially introduced several decades earlier. Above all, zetesis and apophasis need not have involved any extension of the Areopagos’s actual legal competence.

It could investigate, but was constrained

only to recommend

punishment if its sentence exceeded a certain set amount. The absence of a

general enabling decree instructing the demos and Areopagos

about these

procedures might have facilitated the Areopagos’s declining the Assembly’s request to investigate on various occasions (cf. Din. 1.10). By way of parallels, in an amendment Lewis,

GHI

85)

of 409

BC

that

to a decree (JG I’ 102 = Meiggs-

honored

the

assassins

of the

oligarch

Phrynichos, Eudikos proposed that in regard to allegations of bribery in the case of another honorific decree, the bouleutar should “deliberate,” “punish,”

“condemn,” “bring into a dikasterion,” and “report” (apophainein) whatever they know about the matter. Bruyn ([1995]

in supposing Areopagos,

that this very fragmentary

106-108) follows Valeton (1908)

text referred to the boule of the

a name which is wholly restored. There is no evidence that the

Areopagos Council ever exercised any such function at this time, or had any

political importance during these years.’ If JG I’ 102 refers to the boule of 500, it attests a “reporting” procedure resembling that of the Areopagos some fifty years later. Presumably no general decree enabled the boule of 500 to make such investigations. Its instructions were ad hoc.

Similarly,

in 411

BC

the srrategoi reported

(apophainein)

to the demos

regarding men who served as ambassadors to Sparta “for the evil of Athens” (inser. ap. [Plut.] X Orat. 833e [Antiphon]).

A third parallel is supplied by phasis or phainein, a “showing” of some object or person to a magistrate.

Scholars have long wrestled with the problem of

determining the precise nature and scope of what (for example) MacDowell

588

ROBERT W. WALLACE

calls “the [my italics] Athenian procedure of phasis.”'* However, the diverse manifestations of “showing” are best explained if there was no general statute which specified the procedures involved. Statutes against particular offenses

that mention “showing” themselves specify the procedures to be followed for

each type of offense.'” Finally, ad hoc zetetai are also attested in Athens, men chosen by the As-

sembly to examine particular questions.” During the 340s to 320s, investigations and reports by the Areopagos were frequent. These procedures are one part of the Areopagos’s much greater prominence in these years. In 346 or 345 (Aeschin.

1.81-84), the Areopagos

appeared in the Assembly to express its disapproval of plans by Timarchos for the Pnyx. In 343, according to Demosthenes Areopagos

kyrios to decide

the question

replaced him with Hypereides. sembly

against

Charidemos’s

(18.134) the people made the

of Aischines’

ambassadorship.

It

In 338 the Areopagos intervened in the Asappointment

to chief command,

in favor of

Phokion (Plut. Phoc. 16.4).'” What explains all this activity? As Rhodes ([1995] 314)

and

others

have

indicated,

the

Athenians

and

also

presumably

the

Areopagites themselves must have been fired up by public enthusiasm for the patrios politeta, the “good old days,” during this more conservative period of the democracy -- an atmosphere which Isokrates’ Areopagiticus reflected and may

even have contributed to. The Areopagincus had been published shortly before the likely date of the Theogenes incident. In this context we may return to our unanswered questions regarding Demosthenes’ Areopagos decree. (1) As Hansen (1979) has shown, the Athenians enacted general measures by decree only in emergencies.

The

fourth-century examples

Hansen

cites

cluster in the period of Athens’ direct engagement with Macedon. In 347/6 Timarchos proposed a decree making the export of weapons or ships’ tackle to Philip a capital offense (Dem.

19.286-287); between March and May/June

of 339 Demosthenes passed a decree stipulating that the Athenians henceforth

attend meetings of the Amphictyonic Council “at the times appointed by our progonot!” mosthenes

(Aeschin.

3.126-127);

and

between

July and

Nov.

(?) 339

De-

passed a decree that all revenue be transferred to the Stratiotic

Fund (Philoch. [FGrHist 328] fr. 56a). Demosthenes’ use of such decrees is notable. His Areopagos decree belongs in this context.” However,

Demos-

thenes’ decree targets criminal behavior, not treason for Philip. Demosthenes must have proposed his measure

at a sudden,

sometime

apparently

in the years

346-340,

possibly isolated emergency

unrelated

to the struggle with

Macedon, and for which Athens’ cumbersome procedure of nomothesta was judged too slow. The

absence of any record of daily events inside Athens,

“INVESTIGATIONS AND REPORTS” BY THE AREOPAGOS

COUNCIL

589

especially events unrelated to foreign policy (the main interest of our sources), conceals the nature of that crisis.

(2) The wording of Demosthenes’ Areopagos decree echoes themes of the

patrios politeia.”' The standard democratic phrase for “current law” was nomoi keimenoi.” Patroios avoided the oligarchic flavor of patrios (see n. 2) but preserved its reference. It is striking that Demosthenes exploited the same ideology in his 339 decree about the Delphic Amphiktyony (see above). According to

Ath. Pol. 8.4, the Solonian Areopagos was kyria to fine and punish (olasat) citizens who did wrong (hamartanontas). A similar lack of qualification characterizes Deinarchos’s report of Demosthenes’ decree. That decree may

have reflected (or else shaped) conceptions of the Solonian Areopagos. Between Solon and Ephialtes, the Areopagos also had been charged with protecting the democracy

(Ath. Pol. 8.4), its prime focus after 346. In 323

Deinarchos notes (1.9) that the demos had often “entrusted to” the Areopagos

the politeia and the demokrana. (3) The decree’s qualification, “using the ancestral laws,” simultaneously indicated that the Areopagos must act in accordance with current law. This

proviso limited the Areopagos’s new powers, and reduced the danger of a graphe paranomon. It thus brilliantly combined parrios-politeia ideology with a

cautioning proviso.

Presumably, both points helped the decree’s passage.

When in 338 the Areopagos overstepped the common

understanding of this

restriction, the Athenians were furious. (4) Nonetheless, the real purpose of Demosthenes’ emergency decree was

to strengthen an anti-Macedonian ally. The Areopagos Council was resolutely anti-Macedonian — presumably for this reason, Demosthenes proposed that it investigate him in 323 -- and most of its zeteseis and apophaseis, as well as the

cases brought by Demosthenes’ decree, pertained to Macedon.” The case of “the father and son” involved treason. Proxenos was a strategos active against

Macedon,

losing Phokis to Philip in late 346. Antiphon was engaged

in

treasonous activity on behalf of Philip. Charinos was expelled “for treason”: he

prevented legislation to help the town of Ainos, which then allied with Philip. The Areopagos blocked the appointment of Aischines in favor of Hypereides, an unrelenting opponent of Macedon. Thus, both zetesis and apophasıs and Demosthenes’

Areopagos

decree

find

their

primary

historical

context

in

Athens’ fight against Macedon after 346 BC, which Demosthenes led.

When Philip made peace with Athens in 346, what were his intentions?‘ To lull that city into a deceptive sense of security while he subverted Greece, as he had

done

earlier in the northern

peaceful partnership various northern

with Athens

Aegean?

Or to pacify and

while he strengthened

tribes, and his grip on Thessaly

even

create a

his state against

and Thrace?

Before

the

590

ROBERT W. WALLACE

summer of 343 the answer was unclear, to most Athenians and many modern scholars. When

Athenian

Philip sent ambassadors, perhaps in early 343, to hear any

grievances

against him, Aischines

according to Demosthenes early 343, Demosthenes

and

others spoke

for Philip,

(18.136). In the Second Philippic, also perhaps of

can cite no hard evidence to prove that Philip was

acting against Athens. “I think that one day what Philip is doing will pain you

more than it does now; for I see the business going forward ... , the danger is

still in the future.” Sometime during the first part of 343 the Athenians elected Aischines ambassador to the Amphiktyonic League. For Athenian public opinion, the ude turned decisively during the summer

and fall of 343. Philip had not delivered what Athenians had hoped would be the benefits of peace. Instead, his friends had made use of opportunities for political and military intrigue, in Megara, Messene, Argos, Elis, and Euboia. Demosthenes,

the Areopagos

Council and other opponents

exploited these

developments

and manufactured others, to help turn the Athenians against

him. That summer Philokrates, author of the peace three years earlier, fled into exile and was condemned to death for corruption (Dem. 19.116; Aeschin. 2.6; Hyp. 4.29). That summer, Athens sent an embassy to Macedon demanding

that the peace of 346 be revised, in effect to permit Athens to claim control over large amounts

of territory at Philip’s expense

([Dem.]

7.24-29). The

embassy was led by Hegesippos, misophilippos (Schol. in Aeschin.

1.64 p. 266

Sch.) and a friend of Demosthenes. Later that summer, before 1500 dikasts, Demosthenes

prosecuted Aischines for treason three years earlier. Though

probably innocent, Aischines escaped supposedly by thirty votes only, despite the support of Euboulos, Phokion and others.* The Areopagos then replaced him

as ambassador

uncompromising

by Hypereides,

opponent

prosecutor

of Macedon.

general Proxenos had been condemned

of Philokrates

and

another

Shortly before Aischines’ trial the

(Dem.

19.280, cf. 276). Shortly after

it, the Areopagos procured Anuphon’s torture and execution on a charge of

aiding Philip. Through zetests and apophasis Proxenos was imprisoned and Charinos

was

exiled. And

at some

time during

exploited a sudden crisis at Athens

these years, Demosthenes

unrelated to Macedon,

to give added

powers to his anti-Macedonian ally by emergency decree. It is not surprising that the Areopagos

Council,

traditional guardian of

Athens’ democracy, agreed with Demosthenes in opposing Philip. But in the

end, in a bitter twist for the orator, the Areopagite weapon that he had once so skilfully wielded rurned back to strike him. In 323 that Council was compelled

to issue its report of those it judged Demosthenes was listed among them.

to be guilty in the Harpalos

affair.

“INVESTIGATIONS

AND REPORTS”

BY THE AREOPAGOS

COUNCIL

401

Appendix 1: The date of [Dem.] 59 In Neaeram Within termini of 348 (s. 3: Olynthos) and 339 (when Demosthenes diverted

the Theoric Fund, not mentioned in 5. 3),”’ the principal argument for dating In Neaeram to the years 343-340 has been based on Apollodoros’s statement (ss. 26-27) that the poet Xenokleides could not testify against Neaira because he had been declared atmos in 369. According to Dem. Xenokleides

had

recently been

driven

out

of Macedon.

19.331

of fall 343,

Schafer

remarks,

“darauf mag er nach Athen heim gekehrt sein” (see n. 9 above). Carey states, “§ 26, which implies that his disfranchisement is the only factor preventing the poet Xenokleides from testifying, appears to suggest that Xenokleides is in Athens; he was ejected from Macedon in 343” (ibid.). This argument is not compelling. Apollodoros could have said that Xenokleides was forbidden to

testify regardless of where Xenokleides happened to be. There need be no implication that he had returned to Athens - where he was still anımos. (If he was in Macedon, Apollodoros might not have wanted to mention it.) Must this speech “float” berween 348 and 340? Although Theomnestos’s discussion (s. 3) of the Olynthos crisis of 349/8 does not give the impression that these were events of the very recent past, evidence for Theomnestos’s own chronology suggests that Jn Neaeram belongs earlier rather than later in the 340s. At 5. 14, Theomnestos says that he is a neos, inexperienced in speaking; according to 1.5}, the oldest attested age for a neos is 30 (Xen. Mem.

1.2.35);

and Davies (APF 437) states that Theomnestos was born “by or about 380.”

How far can we push these figures? Theomnestos had married a daughter of Apollodoros sometime before (proelelythotos chronou: 59.3) the latter’s term in

the boule (349/8). In conventional terms the earliest Theomnestos could have married would be his early twenties, and his marriage cannot have occurred

later than 350 (cf. proelelythotos chronou). Hence the latest possible birth date for Theomnestos

would be ca. 373, just excluding the date 343-340 for In

Neaeram if LSJ’s figures hold. Of course those figures might themselves be stretched. Nonetheless, all this tends to discourage a date later in the 340s (it surely rules out a date in the 330s) for In Neaeram, which thus could precede the passage of Demosthenes’ decree. In any case, this speech cannot be used to date Demosthenes’ decree after 343-340.

592

ROBERT W. WALLACE

Appendix 2: The date of the Antiphon affair As he himself and also Plutarch report, Demosthenes dragged Antiphon before the Assembly on a charge of planning to burn the docks in the interests of Macedon, but Aischines protested the seizure and procured his release. The Areopagos then investigated, arrested him again and reported him to the demos,

which had him executed (Dem.

18.132-134, cf. Plut. Dem.

14.4). Within

almost certain termini of 346/5 and 340, G. Colin (Hypénde Discours, Bude

1946, 25 n. 2) and independently Harris ([1995] 170 and see 121) date this affair after Aischines’

trial in 343.

Harris writes,

“if Aeschines’

defense

of

Anuphon and Antiphon’s subsequent confession of guilt [if he did confess] had occurred not long before the trial, it is unlikely that Demosthenes would have

neglected to mention it in his speech against Aischines in 343.” This persuasive argument

from

silence can be reinforced

by another.

According

to Dem.

18.133-134, following the Antiphon affair the Areopagos rejected Aischines’ appointment as syndikos to Delos on the grounds (Demosthenes says) that he was a traitor. In Aischines’ trial in 343, his embassies to Philip and to the

Amphiktyons were a major issue, with Aischines defending his conduct (e.g., 2.94,

114-145) and Demosthenes bitterly attacking it (19.122-133). Had the

Areopagos

earlier

dismissed

Aischines

from

an

embassy

to

Delos

by

a

unanimous vote, Demosthenes would also surely have mentioned this. This in turn raises a further question. After his narrow squeak in 343 precisely on the

issue of Macedon, would Aischines have dared publicly to defend Antiphon against Demosthenes

on a charge of attempting to burn the docks to help

Macedon? Would the demos have just let Antiphon go? Furthermore, why did the demos appoint Aischines ambassador,

authority to dismiss him? Demothenes’

but then give the Areopagos

In the light of these questions,

the

I suggest that

arrest of Antiphon, Aischines’ defense of him, and Aischines’

appointment as ambassador to Delos all occurred shortly before Aischines’ trial in 343, and Antiphon’s conviction and the Areopagos’s dismissal of Aischines followed

shortly after it. The

demos was

induced

to reconsider Aischines’

appointment after what they had heard at his trial, and after its investigations, the Areopagos Council they thought could be trusted to deliver a fair verdict in the matter.

“INVESTIGATIONS AND REPORTS” BY THE AREOPAGOS

COUNCIL

593

BIBLIOGRAPHY Bruyn, 0. de. 1989. “L’Aréopage et la Macédoine à l’époque de Demosthene,” ErCi 57: 3-12. Bruyn, Ὁ. de. 1995. La compétence de l'Aréopage en matière de procès publics, Historia Einzelschriften 90 (Stuttgart). Busolt, G. & Swoboda, H. 1920-26. Griechische Staatskunde I-II (Munich). Carawan, ΕΜ. 1985. “Apophasis and Eisangeha: the Rôle of the Areopagus in Athenian Political Trials,” GRBS 26: 115-139. Carey, C. 1992, Apollodoros against Neatra: (Demosthenes) 59 (Warminster). Hansen, M.H. 1979. “Did the Athenian Ecclesia Legislate after 403,2 B.C.?” GRBS 20: 27-53 = (1983) 179-206. Hansen, M.H. 1983. The Athenian Ecclesia I (Copenhagen). Hansen, M.H. 1989. “Solonian Democracy in Fourth-Century Athens,” CiMed 40: 71-99. Hansen, M.H. 19918. The Athenian Democracy in the Age of Demosthenes (Oxford). Hansen, M.H. 1991b. “Response to D.M. MacDowell” (see MacDowell 1991) Symposion 1990, ed. M. Gagarin (Cologne and Vienna) 199-201. Harris, E.M. 1995, Aeschines and Athenian Politics (New York and Oxford). Lipsius, J.H. 1905-15. Das attische Recht und Rechtsverfahren 1-I (Leipzig). MacDowell, D.M. 1978. The Law in Classical Athens (Ithaca). MacDowell, D.M. 1991. “The Athenian Procedure of Phasis,” Symposion 1990, ed. M. Gagarin (Cologne and Vienna) 187-198. Markle, M.M. III. 1981. “Demosthenes’ Second Phthppic: A Valid Policy for the Athenians against Philip,” Anachthon 15: 62-85. Mosse, C. 1962. La fin de la démocrarie athémienne (Paris). Ober, J. 1989. Mass and Elite in Democratic Athens (Princeton). Philippi, A. 1874. Der Areopag und die Epheten (Berlin). Rhodes, P.J. 1995. “Judicial Procedures in Fourth-Century Athens: Improvement or Simply Change?,” in W. Eder (ed.), Die athemsche Demokrane tm 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. (Stuttgart) 303-319. Schäfer, A.D. 1885-87. Demosthenes und seine Zeit I-III’ (Leipzig). Valeton, I.M.J. 1908. “De inscriptionis Phrynicheae partis ultimae lacunis explendix,” Hermes 43: 481-510.

Wallace, R.W. 1989. The Areopagos Council to 307 B.C (Baltimore). Worthington, I. 1992. A Historical Commentary on Dinarchus (Ann Arbor).

NOTES 1.

Recent work on apophasis and Demosthenes’ Areopagos decree, and a fresh look at the evidence, have suggested several new arguments and conclusions which I hope will be of interest to the foremost contemporary authority on Athenian public procedure. 1 am grateful to Edward Harris and Peter Rhodes for comments on this essay. The following constitute a bibliography of recent discussions: Bruyn {1995}, especially pp. 117-146 (1991),

on apophasis (with a catalogue of all known examples); Carawan (1985); Hansen esp. 291-294 (Demosthenes’ decree and apophasis}; Rhodes (1995), esp. 312-314;

Wallace (1989), esp. 113-119; Worthington (1992), esp. Appendix 3 (“The apophasis procedure in the indictment of Demosthenes”).

ROBERT W. WALLACE

594

All MSS report chromenen τοῖς patroiots nomots, but all editors print Wolf’s emendation parriois. This should be rejected. After 404 the term parrios had become unpalatable in political contexts, and Athenians used alternative expressions. At Ep. 3.30 editors also emend out patroios. See Wallace (1989) 256 n. 84. Din. 1.112, sometimes thought to refer to Demosthenes’ decree, probably refers simply to the Areopagos’s homicide competence. See Busolt & Swoboda

(1920-26) 926 with n. 2 (before 344); Mossé (1962) 281

(343); Wallace

(1989) 113-119 (343); Ober (1989) 101 (340s); Worthington (1992) 358 (343).

von

See Philippi (1874) 170-173; Lipsius (1905-15) I, 129, 210; MacDowell (1978) 191; Hansen (1979) 38 = Hansen (1983) 190 n. 24, and Hansen (1991a) 291-292; Carawan (1985) 129-130,

135-136; Rhodes (1995) 313 (“almost certainly”). Hansen (1979) 27-53. Hyp. fr. 18 (Loeb); Lycurg. 1.41 cf. 16; [Plut.] X Graz. 849a; Dio Chrys. 15.21. BMCR

5.2 (1994) 177-178.

See Schäfer (1885-87) Beilage 183, followed (e.g.) by Busolt & Swoboda (1920-26) 926 n. 2 and

Carey (1992) 3 (340 BC). One additional argument often advanced for dating the decree before autumn

343 must be

discounted.

wronged

In 19.280, cf. 276

(of 343),

Demosthenes

tells of various men

who

the

people apparently in the conduct of Athens’ foreign affairs. Among recent offenders he includes “the descendant of Harmodios”.

11. 12.

The scholiast (431.15 = 440.21

Dind.) identifies this man

as

Proxenos the strategos, who had failed to protect Phokis from Philip in 346. Demosthenes and Deinarchos may well be referring to the same man. However, as Schäfer (1885-87) II 369 nn. 2 and 3 and others have pointed out, it need not follow that they also refer to the same incident. Demosthenes says nothing at all about Proxenos’s crime or punishment; Deinarchos says only that he was imprisoned as a result of Dernosthenes’ decree. So, e.g., Rhodes (1995) 313; Bruyn (1995) 118 n. 33, 119 n. 35. Din.

1.58-59; on the date, see Bruyn (1995)

138 and n. 131.

13,

By the decree of Kannonos (Xen. Heil. 1.7.20), the “pit” (orygma or barathron} was used in cases of treason (see Wallace [1989] 119 with nn.). (However, it must be noted, according to schol. Ar. Ran. 574 and Suda s.v. barathron, kakourgoi could also be thrown into the barathron). For the

14,

Contrast Wallace (1989) 113-119. Bruyn ({1995] 117-119, see also 126-129) believes that all four cases in Din. 1.62-63 were brought by apophaseis but through Demosthenes’ decrees. In her view, Din. 1.62 does not refer to a single decree: Demosthenes proposed each apophasis

“descendant of Harmodios” = the straregos Proxenos, see n. 10.

separately. However, the aorist egrapsas in 1.62 and esp. 1.83, and the general authority which the Areopagos

seems

to possess

according

to

1.6 and

1.62

(“all these people and

the other

Athenians”), argue against this interpretation of Demosthenes’ decree. I agree that each case of apophasis on the demos’s request was authorized by a separate decree. But these (I now believe) are not referred to in Din. 1.62. 15.

For more detailed criticisms of Bruyn’s hypothesis that apophasıs by the Areopagos dates back to Ephialtes, see my review in BMCR 9.3 (1998) 217-222.

16.

MacDowell (1991) 187-198. Hansen responded: (1991b) 199-201. My conclusions on phasis will

17, 18. 19.

appear in Symposton 1999. IG IF 412, dated to the Lykourgan era, may establish phasis procedures for a particular offense. See e.g. Dem.

24.11 of ca. 355, and generally Lipsius (1905-15) I, 117.

Rhodes (1995) 314 regards these three episodes as instances of apophasts. For the Timarchos incident this is possible but unattested; that the Areopagos was kyrias in the matter of Aischines’ embassy is inconsistent with apophasis (per ktteras Rhodes says he doubts it was Ayrios in this case);

for Phokion the Areopagos intervened in an Assembly, and there is no sign that they submitted a report. 20.

It may be worth pondering that the only other decree (16 Η 204, of 352/1) before Chaironcia that enacts a general regulation, appoint the Areopagos (among other bodies) to protect Athens’ sacred territories.

21.

See Hansen

(1989) 91-92 and 94-95.

“INVESTIGATIONS AND REPORTS”

22.

See e.g. Andoc.

BY THE AREOPAGOS

COUNCIL

595

1.84 (n.b.: the Areopagos is to ensure that magistrates τοῖς keimenais nomois

chrontat), and Dem.

24.33.

23.

See Bruyn (1989) 3-12.

24.

On the material in the next two paragraphs, see ¢.g. Markle (1981) and Harris (1995) though the bibliography is vast.

25. 26.

Dem. 6.32-33, 35, see also Libanios’s hypothesis 5. 3, citing Philippikai historiai. Plut. Dem. 15, [Plut.] X Orar. 840c. The source for thirty votes is Idomeneus, a Hellenistic scandal-monger. The figure looks suspiciousiy Sokratic - Idomeneus wrote on the Sokratics - and

107-123,

may be doubted. Does Aischines’ narrow victory go with it?

27.

This particular argument from silence is less than compelling, since the speaker need not have been concerned with the history of the Fund. However, another argument against dating this speech after 340 is given below.

At Home. Lysias 1.23

ALAN L. BOEGEHOLD

I have had the pleasure from time to time of reading a Greek text with Mogens Hansen, when both of us were looking for enlightenment on some aspect of Athenian life. It was always a stimulating and instructive exercise, and from it,

I can now be sure that Mogens’ unfailing focus on the true sense of the Greek will insure his tolerance of an exploration that might otherwise seem minimalist

in its pretensions. There are after all sermons in stones. The speech was composed

for a Euphiletos who killed Eratosthenes, ap-

prehended, says Euphiletos, ın flagrante delicto, in bed with Euphiletos’ wife. Euphiletos

is trying

to convince

a judging

panel

that he

did

not

entrap

Eratosthenes: the discovery that his wife was in bed with Eratosthenes came as a surprise, something he had to deal with extemporaneously.

In telling his

story, he repeats details: he says in chapters 23 and 41—42 that upon being told

one night that it was happening, that Eratosthenes was in his house, he ran out into the street to get witnesses and help. In each of these two accountings, Euphiletos forms an antithesis that is close to the other in sense and phraseology. In chapter 23, he found some people at home (ἔνδον), while others were not in town (οὐκ ἐπιδημοῦντας). He took all

he could from those present and went on. In chapter 41, he did not know who he would find at home and who outside: he did in fact go to Harmodios’ house and to someone else and found that they were not in town (οὐκ ἐπιδημοῦντας, exactly the phrase of his earlier accounting), and others he found were not at home

(οὐκ ἔνδον). He took whom

he could back to his house, where Era-

tosthenes and his wife were in bed together. The

aim

of this note

is to affirm

a modest

component

of Euphiletos’

narrative as recorded in the manuscripts, for Euphiletos’ earlier antithesis has been the target of an unnecessary but pertinacious modern editorial conjecture.

The Greek of 1.23 in question is as follows: ὁ δὲ ᾿Ερατοσθένης, ὦ ἄνδρες, εἰσέρχεται, καὶ ἡ θεράπαινα ἐπαγείρασά με εὐθὺς φράζει ὅτι ἔνδον ἐστί. κἀγὼ εἰπὼν ἐκείνῃ ἐπιμελεῖσθαι τῆς θύρας, καταβὰς σιωπῇ ἐξέρχομαι, καὶ ἀφικνοῦμαι ὡς τὸν καὶ τόν, καὶ τοὺς μὲν ἔνδον κατέλαβον, τοὺς δὲ οὐκ ἐπιδημοῦντας ηὗρον.

παραλαβὼν δ᾽ ὡς οἷόν τε ἦν πλείστους ἐκ τῶν παρόντων ἐβάδιζον. The sense is as follows: “Eratosthenes entered, gentlemen, and the maid-servant woke me up right away, telling me that he was in the house. I told her to be in charge of the

508

ALAN L. BOEGEHOLD

door, and I went down and quietly made my exit. I went to one person and another, and I caught some at home. Others I found were not in town. I took all I could from those present and proceeded on.” The conjecture in question is an οὐκ inserted before ἔνδον. Proposed as an addition in the eighteenth century by J.J. Reiske, it has survived to be printed as «οὐκ» in Hude

(1912) and in Thalheim

brackets in Frohberger

(1868).

Carey

(1901), and as οὐκ without any

(1989)

prints «οὐκ»...

οὐδ᾽ without

comment. Note that the alteration requires a concomitant alteration, namely

οὐδ᾽ for οὐκ ἐπιδημοῦντας. On the other hand, Westermann (1854) prints τοὺς μὲν ἔνδον ἔλαβον, as do Bizos (1967) and Lamb (1967), Reiske’s supplement «οὐκ» before évdov together with the consequently necessary change of οὐκ to οὐδ᾽ after τοὺς δέ produces the antithesis, “I ascertained some were not at home, and others I found were not in town.” Now it

is an observable characteristic of Euphiletos’ style that he repeats phrases, sometimes exactly, sometimes re-phrasing slightly. One telling instance is at the end of paragraph 22 and the beginning of 23. Euphiletos describes how he ran

into his friend Sostratos and invited him to dinner on the evening of the homicide. “Sostratos was a dear friend of mine. I ran into him coming in from the field at sunset. I knew that because he was coming home at that time he would not find any company at home, and so I invited him to dine with me. We went to my house and we went upstairs and had dinner. When he was content, he

left, and I went to sleep.” Compare now Euphiletos’ retelling at paragraph 39: “T have, as I said before, gentlemen, a friend named Sostratos. He’s like family. He ran into me as I came from the field around sunset and had supper with me. And when he was content he left.” The substance of what Euphiletos says is the same, and the phrases are close, which is to say: almost the same twice, exactly the same once. Here is the Greek in paragraph 22: Σώστρατος ἦν por ἐπιτήδειος καὶ φίλος. τούτῳ ἡλίου δεδυκότος ἰόντι ἐξ ἀγροῦ ἀπήντησα. εἰδὼς δ᾽ ἐγὼ ὅτι τηνικαῦτα

ἀφιγμένος

οὐδὲν ἂν καταλήψοιτο

οἴκοι τῶν ἐπιτηδείων, ἐκέλευον

συνδειπνεῖν' καὶ ἐλθόντες οἴκαδε ὡς ἐμέ, ἀναβάντες εἰς τὸ ὑπερῷον ἐδειπνοῦμεν. ἐπειδὴ δὲ καλῶς αὐτῷ εἶχεν, ἐκεῖνος μὲν ἀπίων ᾧχετο. Now

compare the repe-

tition in chapter 39: φίλος ὧν Σώστρατος καὶ οἰκείως διακείμενος ἀπαντήσας ἐξ ἀγροῦ περὶ ἡλίου δυσμὰς συνεδείπνει, καὶ ἐπειδὴ καλῶς εἶχεν αὐτῷ, ἀπίων ᾧχετο. "ὦ Once an editor has paid attention to this sort of restatement, he or she may be tempted

to “correct”

Euphiletos’ words

in paragraph

23 to make

them

conform better with those in paragraph 41. Here is the Greek of paragraph 41: οὐκ ἂν δοκῶ ὑμῖν ... μᾶλλον ñ ἐπειδὴ τάχιστα ἠσθόμην τῆς νυκτὸς περιτρέχειν, οὐκ εἰδὼς ὄντινα οἴκοι καταλήψομαι καὶ ὄντινα ἔξω" καὶ ὡς ᾿Αρμόδιον μὲν καὶ τὸν δεῖνα ἦλθον οὐκ ἐπιδημοῦντας (οὐ γὰρ Serv). ἑτέρους δὲ οὐκ ἔνδον ὄντας κατ-

ἔλαβον, οὖς δ᾽ οἷός τε ἦν λαβὼν ἐβάδιζον. “Don’t you think that I would have

AT HOME. LYSIAS

1.23

599

been more likely to ... than, as soon as I knew, run around in the night, not knowing who I would find at home and who outside. I went to Harmodios’ house and to another person’s, and they were abroad - I didn’t know - others I did not find at home, but I took whom I could and proceeded on my way.”

Euphiletos here has added telling detail to his account. It is important that he impress upon the minds of the judging panel that he did not foresee such a crisis. And so he says that he went to the houses of people he knew and discovered that Harmodios and another person were not even in town (which goes to show how far from being informed he was) while others were just not at home at that hour. But some of his friends (inferentially) were at home (or on the street making

their way home,

as luckless Eratosthenes might have

hoped to do that evening) and he took them along with him. By specifying the reason why Harmodios

and one other were not available (they were out of

town) and then providing another reason why others were not available (they were not at home), Euphiletos improves his narrative with a density of detail attesting the impromptu concisely at paragraph

nature of his search, which is what he says more 23: καὶ τοὺς μὲν ἔνδον κατέλαβον, τοὺς δὲ οὐκ ἐπιδη-

μοῦντας ηὗρον. “I caught some people at home. Some I found were abroad.” Reiske,

caught

by Euphiletos’

observable

picked up the phrase “not at home”

inclination

to repeat

himself,

(οὐκ ἔνδον) from paragraph 41 as just-

fication for paragraph 23 and proceeded to alter the text. But Euphiletos in paragraph 41 repeats the substance of his narrative at paragraph 23, no matter whether

a negative is added

or not. Nor was he constrained

to repeat the

antithesis he used at paragraph 23 “found some at home” / “others were out of town”, when he came to paragraphs 41 and 42. There he adopted a different antithesis, namely “some were out of town” / “others were not at home”, tilting the earlier formulation slightly to amplify his newer version. To sum up, Lysias felt that repetition was consonant with Euphiletos’ way of presenting

himself,

and

so he incorporated

some

repetitions

where

he

thought they would be effective. He was not, however, bound to say exactly the same thing in exactly the same way when he told a story a second time.

To end a brief essay with a message of ampler scope, by removing a word that was not in the text as transrnitted, a word that moreover necessitates yet

another change, we honor three sound principles. First, do not think that your own perception of symmetry and consistency in a brief fragment of ancient Greek prose is a perfectly trustworthy canon. Second, (and therefore) do not alter a text to make

it conform

to your own

notions of Lysias’ concept of

effective presentation. And third, do not alter a text that makes sense as it stands. This last is regularly invoked in New England with the homely advice: “Ifit ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

600

ALAN L. BOEGEHOLD

BIBLIOGRAPHY Bizos, M. 1967. Lysias. Quatre Discours (Paris). Carey, C. 1989. Lysias. Selected Speeches (Cambridge). Frohberger, H. 1868. Ausgewählte Reden des Lysias (Leipzig). Hude, C. 1912. Lysiae Orariones (Oxford). Lamb, W.R.M. 1967. Lysias (London). Thalheim, T. 1901. Lysiae Oranones (Leipzig).

Westerman, A. 1854. Lysiae Orationes (Leipzig).

NOTE 1.

Similar repetitions at 1.6 and 1.9; 1.14 and 1.17, and bis 1.17. Cf. Carey (1989) 66.

The Location of Inscribed Laws in Fourth-Century Athens.

IG Il’ 244, on Rebuilding the Walls of Peiraieus (337/6 BC) M.B. RICHARDSON

The inscribed Athenian laws of the fourth century BC provide evidence that

in the fourth century, Athenian laws were not all set up at one location. The case may have been different in the fifth century, when the Stoa Basileios has

some claim to being the site where laws were erected: the revised laws of the late fifth century, according to Andokides, were to be inscribed ἐν τῇ στοᾷ (“in the stoa”), and the fifth-century republication of the law of Drakon contains

instructions for the law to be inscribed and set up “in front of the Stoa Basileios” ([πρόσ]θεν τᾶς στοᾶς τὸς BactAetac).’ In contrast, the four fourth-century

laws which preserve instructions for publication do not mention the stoa, and there is no instance of two of these laws being directed to a single site.” For the five fourth-century laws which lack clauses of publication, only the findspots of the stelai and indirect indications in the texts point to the sites at which they were set up.’ In what follows, I attempt to identify the original location of one

of these five, 216 II? 244, and on the evidence of this law and of the four whose original locations are known, I propose that in fourth-century Athens, inscribed

laws were not directed to a single location by virtue of their classification as laws, but that the site of each was individually selected with regard to the text inscribed on the stone.

Excavated in Peiraieus in 1899, the stele inscribed with JG IT? 244 was not found in situ, and shows evidence of having figured in a number of reuses subsequent to its original placement.‘ Deposits of mortar which still adhere to

its top and right side, the latter observed excavation,

by I. Dragatsis at the time of

indicate that the stele had at least one recycling as building material,

and the position in which it was discovered — face down in the entranceway to a subterranean tunnel, and unrelated to any built structure — points to yet another reuse. Today, the tunnel in which the stele was found is covered by

buildings which also overlie remains of the fifth-century BC theater in Mounychia in the city block framed by the streets Θεάτρου, Καραολή-Δημητρίου, Neoptwv, and Τσαμάδου.

602

M.B. RICHARDSON

The law which directs repair of the walls of Peiraieus is one of two documents inscribed on the stele, occupying Il. 1-46. Although the right side and bottom of the stone are cut back from the original, removing some text, there remains in the prescript of the law a scatter of purpose clauses attesting the

aims which the law encompassed: “to repair the walls around Eetioneia and the rest of Peiraieus, and in particular the defective parts of the stone walls” (il. 35: [ὅπως ἂν] - τὰ περὶ τὴν ᾿Ητιώνειαν καὶ τὸν ἄλλον] _ δὲ καὶ τὰ ἔλλοιπα τῶν

λιθίνων τειχῶν... [ἐπῃπισκευασθῶσιν) Following next on the stone, in Il. 47-113, are syngrapha: (“specifications”)

which are clearly a companion to the law. These specifications direct works on a single wall at Peiraieus, indicated twice to be one in Mounychia: ll. 47-48: [Zufyypadai

τοῦ

τείχους

τοῦ

Moviykikor

(“specifications

for

the

wall

at

Mounychia”); ἢ. 90-92: [λίθοις δὲ χρῆσθαι εἰς td πλήρωϊμα tofic ὑπάρχουσιν ἐν τῆι Μουνιχίίαι) (“for the fill, use stones at hand in Mounychia”). Although the law which precedes these syngraphai preserves no explicit reference to the site of Mounychia,

its mention

of points “around Eetioneia and the rest” (1. 3)

establishes the presumption that locations within Peiraieus are equally a subject of both texts, the syngrapha: on our stone being focused more particularly on Mounychia. Three references in the law to syngraphai or to a related term — 1. 7: συγγράψαντας, I. 41: ovyypada(—], and 1. 42: τῶν συγγραφῶν — suggest that the authors of the law had these syngraphai in mind, and the fact that the two

texts are inscribed on one stele confirms the inference that they are integrally related. On such grounds, P. Foucart reasonably restored to |. 4 of the law tov λιθίνων τειχῶν ΜΙονυχίασιν] (“the stone walls at Mounychia”).’

In his publication of the stele, Dragatsis took up the topic of its original location, concluding that “the inscription was set precisely at this place because it bore the contract for the repair of the wall at this location, just as, at other sites, similar stelar — containing first the ‘general terms’ [γενικὸν μέρος, 1.e., the

law) and then the contract for the repair of another part of the wall -- would have been erected at the corresponding sites.”? He did not suggest which sites these might have been, and it remains unclear what wall he had in mind as “the wall at this location”, presumably the same wall he describes in slightly

different terms as “the wall which crossed a little north of the place where the inscription was found”,

“the wall of Mounychia

running a bit more to the

north”, and, again, as “the wall crossing above this area.”” We can believe, I think, that the reference is to a stretch of the fortification wall of Mounychia either restored

or extant

to the north

of the underground

quarry,

where

remains of that wall had been recorded as early as 1843.'° But we cannot be sure, on the basis of Dragatsis’ description, where he believed the stele to have been set up. He cannot mean that “the inscription was set precisely at this

THE LOCATION OF INSCRIBED LAWS IN FOURTH-CENTURY ATHENS

603

place”, i.e., in its findspot on the floor of the underground quarry, where it obviously was not in its first use. Keeping in mind

the general area of the

findspot of the stele, we can turn to its texts to pinpoint more precisely the site in Peiraieus at which this stele originally stood. Although fragmentary, the law is immediately recognizable as a resolution

of the nomothetai (1. 6: δεδόχθαι τοῖς νομοθέταις, “Let it be resolved by the nomothetar’)

which

was

proposed

by

the

man

named

in its second

line

(....... 1 ολννεννννννν } Αφιδναῖος εἶπεν, “Aphidnaios made the motion”) and which was enacted to carry out repairs on walls at Peiraieus.'' Although nothing in the law tells us specifically for whom the nomotherai and this proposer intended

the text, there is indication throughout of the wide array of people who were expected to be affected by the terms of the law. To begin with, the law is resolved on behalf of the demos, i.e., that of Athens

(1. 2: ἀγαθῆι τύχηι τοῦ

[δήμου —], “may good fortune attend the demos”), and the Athenians can be presumed to have had some

stake in the terms.’? Resources and personnel

which the law shows to be marshalled for the intended venture include a variety of Athenian officials whose particular role in the works is no longer preserved: a secretary (1. 8: tay γραμματέα), a recorder (1. 23: τὸν avtiypadéa),

treasurers

(1. 26: [τ]αμίας,

I. 34:

τῶν tapidv)

and,

more

specifically, the

treasurers of the goddess Athena (1. 38: τοὺς ταμίας τῆς Beö). Other passages in

the law preserve instructions to the Boule, which is scheduled to select officials (1. 10), to convene ἕδραν περὶ τῶν τειχί---Ἰ (“a session involved with the walls”, 1. 37), and to receive ἀνάθημα (“an offering”, |. 39), and the law also contains instructions to the demos, who are involved in electing some men

[κεχεμροτονημένων

ὑπὸ τοῦ δήμο,

“voted for by the demos”)

(ll. 44-45:

and who

are

invoked, by allusion, in two references to the lawcourts (1. 32: δικαστηρίου, 1.

36: δικαστήριον). Also mentioned in the law are people involved more directly in the impending repairs; for example, architects (1. 6: ἀρχιτέκτονας) and the commissioners

for the repairing of walls (1. 34: τῶν τειχοποιῶν,

|. 38: τοὺς

τειχοποιούς). Even these few selections from the text show that a large number of people

had an interest in knowing the terms of the law. For those whose activities were specifically governed by its directives, the interest can be believed to have been more compelling. And yet the version of the law which we have, inscribed and placed at Peiraieus, would not have served the interests of all who had cause to consult it. I believe that we can expect that the law was preserved in other

forms during the period when it was valid, and that the precise form in which we possess it, and also its siting in Peiraieus, must have been chosen more

particularly for some of these parties than for others. Because both the form and the siting apply equally to the syngraphai and to the law, we can refine the

604

ΜΙ. RICHARDSON

scope of the audience for which the two were intended by turning to consider the audience of that second text. Following

a quick

identification

of itself as [Συ]γγραφαὶ

τοῦ τείχους

τοῦ

Μονιχ[ίασι (ll. 47-48), the syngraphai point immediately to one of the groups involved in its terms: Il. 48-49: οἱ μισθωσάμενοι τὰς τομὰς τῶν] λίθων ἐπὶ τὰ

τείχη; “the men under contract for cutting the stone for the walls.” From this point through 1. 62, their work is defined to be cutting, hewing, carrying to the

worksite and cleaning the stones.'* In these tasks, they are overseen by a second

group

of contractors,

those

“under

contract for the work”

(oi τὴν

ἐργασίαν μισθωσάμενοι, ll. 55-56, 58-59, 61-62), who are specifically charged with stipulating which written instructions are to be followed, which stones are

to be brought up first, and where the stones are to be cleaned. Throughout these lines, the contractors for cutting the stone appear to be subcontractors, who will report to those contractors in charge of “the work.” The rest of the text contains further specifications for the working and delivery of the stones — these, the tasks of the subcontractors, under the oversight of the contractors. Three final references to contractors, clearly to the overseers, are contained

within a summing up of previous directives, opening with 11. 98-99: ταῦτα οἱ μισθωσάμενοι ἀποδώσουσιν (“these items the contractors will surrender”) and ending

with

γεγραμμένα]

il.

111-112:

(“they

will

ἀποδώσουσιν

surrender

all

ταῦτα

anavita

of these

πεπ]οιημένα

items,

when

κατὰ

τὰ

wrought

in

accordance with the written specifications”). Although we are not at this point at the end of the syngraphai, we are certainly at the end of a section addressed

to the mischosamenoi.'” If other agents were addressed in the syngraphai, or if their efforts were entailed in directives given, we have no evidence of that on

the stone. The syngraphat, then, were addressed to contractors and subcontractors. Returning to the law, we find contractors named there, as well, three times in close compass in the final lines: 1. 30: [ὄπ)ως ἂν ἐξεργάζωνται οἱ μισθωσάμενοι κατὰ τὸν ἐνιαυτόν (“so that the ones under contract might carry out the tasks during the year”)"°

1. 35: ef tives tou μισθωσαμένων

(“if some of the men under contract”) ll. 44-45: [κεχε[)ροτονημένων ὑπὸ τοῦ δήμο τοῖς μισθωσαμένοις τὰ ἔργα (“the ones voted for by the demos to? be? the men who are under contract for the works”)

THE LOCATION

OF INSCRIBED LAWS IN FOURTH-CENTURY

ATHENS

605

In none of these passages is the province of the contractors specified as being τὰς τομὰς τῶν λίθων (“cutting the stone”) or τὴν ἐργασίαν (“the work”), but the first two references, lacking any specification at all, are perhaps intended to be concerned with both. The final reference, on the other hand - τοῖς μισθωσαμένοις τὰ ἔργα (“the men who are under contract for the works”) — is almost certainly to those contractors who

are named

oi τὴν ἐργασίαν μισθωσάμενοι

(“the ones under contract for the work”) in the syngraphai, the slight shift in wording likely being due to the different authorship of the two texts: the term

used in the syngraphat was probably the one current in the circles of architects and construction crews.'’ Misthosamenoi, of one or another sort, are the predominant topic for the final seventeen lines of the law, and references to them are confined to these lines, a circumstance which perhaps suggests that sub-

stantive details of their assignments were recorded here. The law may not, however, have fallen into such discrete sections, and lacunae which obscure the

main topic of all but a few of the passages prevent us from determining whether the clustering of references in these lines is only apparent. In respect to misthosamenot, the preserved text indicates little more than that they are

addressed in these latest lines and that they were certainly among those with an interest in the terms of the law.

Contractors for the works on the walls and for the cutting of the stones are, then, the most visible groups addressed both by directives of the law and by specifications of the syngraphai. They had cause to know the texts of both the law and syngraphai and to be able to refer to the terms in the course of their work, and the texts would have served them best if erected at the site of that

work. In contrast to the several wall-building accounts of the 390s which might have been built into the walls to which they are related, the law and syngraphai inscribed on JG II? 244 direct activities which are not confined to a single

stretch of wall.'* If the placement of JG II? 244 had anything to do with the site of the works

it prescribed

at Mounychia,

the

texts of both

the law

and

syngraphai suggest that it would have found more use at a quarry than at a wall.

Von Eickstedt has identified 131 quarries in the city of Peiraieus, of which 26 show activity of the fourth century BC.’ Of these, one which was judged

by its excavators as an area of quarrying active in the mid-fourth century BC lies on the rise of Mounychia hill known as Λόφος Προφήτου ᾿Ηλία, and I suggest, provisionally, that it might be from here that the stone for the wall of

Mounychia was taken.” Because we lack any blocks which can be conclusively associated with the wall described in the syngraphat, we cannot link blocks used

in that wall to any particular quarry. On the other hand, further recommending this area of quarrying atop Mounychia hill is the fact that it is uphill from any

construction ever carried out in the area. The advantage of moving large blocks

606

M.B. RICHARDSON

downhill rather than up was not overlooked, for example, at the Pnyx and Panopeus, and might have been appreciated at Mounychia.”’ In the extensive natural rock outcroppings on Addoc Προφήτου * HAia, a rectangular cavity to receive the szele could easily have been cut at a spot adjacent to the area of active quarrying, setting the law and syngraphat near enough to

the men at work. Within the network of quarry cuttings and subsequent ancient residential modifications on the top of this rise, there is, in fact, one

cutting which has a flat floor of dimensions appropriate for bedding a stele the size of IG 112 244 (Plate

1). The thickness of the stele (0.1225m)

would fit

snugly within the width of the cutting (0.13m); the width of the stele (maxi-

mum 0.54m) would be neatly accommodated in the length of the flat floor of the cutting (0.56m); and the nearly vertical longitudinal walls of the cutting,

varying irregularly in their depth from 0.05 to 0.21m, would offer ample

support to a stele within them.” This east-west cutting is located at the eastern end of the south slope of Προφήτης ᾿Ηλίας, above a flight of stairs cut out of the rock, in an area now designated as “Complex Gamma.””

Less than a meter

to the east, west, and south of the cutting, this level of the quarry has been sheared off abruptly, so that the surface into which the cutting is sunk has the

shape of a peninsula jutting out of the native rock.”* I suggest that such a cutting, whether it was dug as a channel to quarry a block or as a cutting to

support a stele, could have been used to display to contractors the texts of the law and syngraphat which directed their work. On the level of the quarry just below this one, there is preserved a semiovoid depression cut into the eastern face of the sheared rock, ca. 0.65m east of the cutting and ca. 0.20m to its south, apparently a votive niche, with a rectangular hole approximately centered at the back of its floor (Plate 2).”° Niches of one sort or another, found in other quarries in Peiraieus, have been associated with the ancient stone-works in their area. There seems no reason to doubt that the niche at Προφήτης ᾿Ηλίας is ancient, although I see no means

of deciding whether its construction was contemporary or subsequent to works at the quarry. I bring the niche into consideration here in order to suggest that

it was not only in periods following the functioning of a quarry that its surfaces could be put to different use, bur that the walls and floors to the side of a

quarry still active may have invited cuttings not strictly related to the removal

of blocks.”” The suggestion that JG II? 244 was erected at the quarry which provided stone for τὸ teixog τοῦ Μονιχίασι does not disallow the possibility that other copies of the law and other syngraphai were erected at other sites. We

can

build, to begin with, on Dragatsis’ observation that our syngraphai have to do only with a wall Μονιχίασι, not with all of the works which the law directs, and

THE LOCATION

OF INSCRIBED LAWS IN FOURTH-CENTURY

ATHENS

607

he is surely right to propose that an altered version of the text was erected at

other sites. In these other inscriptions, the opening rubric of the different syngraphai could have named the pertinent site, and the syngraphai could have

detailed the works in that area. On the evidence of the law in IG II’ 244, we might even go so far as to suggest where these syngraphai might have been

placed. One set would have been appropriate at Eetioneia, where repairs were to reinforce τὰ περὶ τὴν ᾿Ητιώνειαν where,

(“the ones around Eetioneia”, |. 3) and

too, a quarry lies cheek-by-jowl

to the site of construction;

others,

possibly, at each of the operating harbors, to provide specifications for work undertaken ὅπως & ἂν καὶ οἱ λιμένες κλείωνται (“in order that the harbors might

be closed off as well”, 1. 40) and perhaps also for work on the shipsheds (1. 95: νεωρίων); and one each at whatever other sites in Peiraieus the nomothetai had

resolved to repair the defenses of the city.” If such additional sets of syngraphas for the projects detailed in the law were inscribed, each is likely to have been accompanied, as is our set, by a text of the law. There is, however, no reason to suppose that the law would have been separately inscribed and separately erected, nor that the various syngraphai would have been collectively inscribed and displayed. Foucart, describing [Ὁ

II? 244 as “n’est qu’une copie secondaire”, suggested that an original would have been set up on the Akropolis at Athens, citing the convention that “les

steles sur lesquelles

on gravait les lois ou les décrets étaient d’ordinaire

exposées sur l’Acropole.”” Athenian laws of the fourth century BC do not at all support the convention. Of the nine surviving stelai inscribed with these

laws, only JG I? 333 of ca. 335/4 BC, which contains two laws regarding cult, can be securely stated to have originated on the Akropolis: the instruction καὶ στῆσαι ἐν axpondAn publication

clause

(“and

set it on the Akropolis”,

of fragment

L 12) is intact in the

a, and the siting is borne

out both by the

findspot of the two published fragments — fragment a found north of the Parthenon,

fragment Ὁ near the eastern part of the Akropolis -- and by a

directive mentioning oi δημόσιοι οἱ ἐν τῆι axp[ondAnh (“the public slaves on the

Akropolis”, I. 6).᾽} Certainly not originating on the Akropolis are the three remaining laws which preserve publication clauses, in which the szelaı ordered to be inscribed are explicitly directed to other locations: SEG 26 72 of 375/4 BC, the law of Nikophon on silver coinage (ll. 44-47: ἀναγράψαι δὲ ἐν σ[τήλ]ηι λιθίνηι τὸν νόμον τόνδε καὶ καταθεῖναι ἐν [ἄσϊτει μὲμ

μεταξὺ τῶν

τραπεζῶν, ἐμ Πειραιεῖ δὲ πρόϊσ]θεν

τῆς στήλης

τοῦ Πο-

σει[δγῶνος, “and set up one stele in the city among the tables and a second

in Peiraieus in front of the stele of Poseidon”)

608

M.B. RICHARDSON

IG II? 140 of 353/2 BC, the law of Meid[—] on Eleusinian First Fruits Cl, 31-35: τὸν δὲ γραμματέα τῆς βουλῆς}! προσαναγράψαι τόνδε tov νόμον] | πρὸς τὸν πρότεροίν τὸν Χαιρημονῇδου εἰς τὴν στήλίην τὴν ἔμπροσθεν

τοῦ

Μητρώιου, “The grammateus [of the Boule} is to have [this law] inscribed next to the earlier law, the one of Chairemonides on the stele [which is in

front} of the Metroon”) SEG 12 87 of 337/6 BC, the law of Eukrates on tyranny (ll. 24-27: στῆσαι thy μὲν ἐπὶ τίῆς εἰσόδου

τῆς εἰς “Aperov Πάγον

τῆς εἰς τὸ βουλευτήριον

εἰσιόντι, τὴν δὲ ἐν τῆι ἐκκλησία, “have them set up, the one at the entrance into (the) Areopagos - the entrance leading into the bouleuterion, for one going in — and the other in the Ekklesıa”) These three clauses suggest that the subject matter of an inscribed law figured heavily in the selection of the site of its placement: the law on silver coinage was set up where its terms could be consulted by buyers and sellers in the markets of Athens and Peiraieus; the law on Eleusinian First Fruits was set up beside a law on the same topic; the law on tyranny was set up in the path of members of the Areopagos and Ekklesia obligated by its directives. I have suggested here that one copy of the law on repairing the walls at Peiraieus, inscribed together with syngraphat directing the repair of the wall at Mounychia, was set up in Mounychia, perhaps at a quarry. If the intended audience of the laws was taken so far into account in the placement of stelar on which the

laws were inscribed, we cannot afford to ignore the intended audience

in

attempting to determine the original site of an inscribed law — whether we have recovered the stele or not — and we should not overlook the corollary that those who directed the siting of inscribed fourth-century Athenian laws expected the

texts to be read.”

THE LOCATION OF INSCRIBED LAWS IN FOURTH-CENTURY ATHENS

609

Appendix The Proposer of [G I? 244 IG IP 244.2 init. [........ 19 en

] ᾿ΑΦιδναῖος

einev”

All previous editors have identified “Aphidnaios” as the demotic of the proposer, and have assumed that his name and patronymic are lost from the initial 19 stotchot. Thus

persuaded,

Foucart

(1902)

177,

186 suggested restoring

[Δημήτριος Εὐκτήμονος), PA 3392, exempli grana. Another Aphidnan from the mid-fourth century BC, PA 8410, Κηφισοφῶν Κεφαλίωνος, was restored in this line by Frickenhaus

(1905)

19, followed by Maier (1959)

36. As Foucart’s

hesitation advises, others whose name would fit the lacuna will likely become

known. There are grounds, however, for doubting this interpretation of the text.

Attestation of a man named

‘Ahiôvafioc] (Ebwvupeüs), who was a bouleutes

of 304/3 BC (Agora XV 61.165), raises the possibility that it is the personal

name of the proposer which /G II? 244 preserves. Inscribed Athenian laws of the fourth century BC vary between showing the demotic or the personal name

of the proposer in the position before εἶπεν. It is notable, certainly, that those laws in which the proposer is identified by personal name alone are the earliest three of the nine, and that of the five later laws which preserve the information

— of dates flanking that of /G IT? 244 -- all add patronymic and demotic to the personal name.” The choice would seem, then, to be between personal name alone, in the second quarter of the fourth century, and name, patronymic and

demotic, beginning just before 350 BC. Foucart (1902) 182 pointed to just this chronological watershed in the naming of proposers in Athenian decrees, and

it is possible that his observation is valid also for the laws.” The format of the laws is not, however, on other points so regular, and it seems a more aberrant

characteristic of JG II” 244 that it lacks any dating by archon. In Athenian laws of the fourth century BC, that feature is almost universally extant or restorable,

always in the first or second position in the text, missing only from JG II? 140 of 353/2 BC, which is a rider to a law rather than a law per se, and from the enigmatic, unpublished law from Brauron, SEG 35 83. The possibility exists, then, that the phrase [ἐπὶ ....”.... ἄρχοντος] occupied the

first 19 stoichoi of IG II? 244 - e.g., {[Xaipdvdo}, archon 338/7 BC; ἰΦρυνίχου, archon 337/6 BC - and that the proposer was indicated by the personal name ᾿Αφιδναῖος alone.”

610

Plate

M.B. RICHARDSON

I. Complex

Gamma,

Προφήτης

quarry; from the north. Photo: J. Camp.

᾿Ηλίας,

Peiraicus;

east-west

cutting

in floor of

THE LOCATION

Plate 2. Προφήτης

Photo: J. Camp.

OF INSCRIBED

᾿Ηλίας,

Peiraieus;

LAWS

IN FOURTH-CENTURY

rock-cut

niche

ATHENS

in wall of quarry;

from

611

the east.

612

M.B. RICHARDSON BIBLIOGRAPHY

Dragatsis, I. 1900a. “Ψήφισμα ἐκ Πειραιῶς," ArchEph: 91-102. Dragatsis, I. 1900b. “᾿Ανασκαφαὶ ἐν Πειραιεῖ," Prakr: 35-37.

Dragatsis, I. 1922-24. ““Ex@eo1c περὶ τῆς καταστάσεως τῶν ἀρχαιοτήτων Πειραιῶς," Prake 15-22. Dworakowska, A. 1975. Quarnies in Ancient Greece (Warsaw). Foucart, P. 1902. “Une loi athénienne du IV" siècle,” 7Sav 177-193, 233-245. Frickenhaus, A. 1905. Athens Mauern im IV. Jahrhundert v. Chr. (Bonn). Henry, A.S. 1977. The Prescripts of Athenian Decrees, Mnemosyne Suppl. 49 (Leiden). Maier, F.G. 1959. Griechische Mauerbauinschriften. Erster Teil: Texte und Kommentar, Vestigia 1 (Heidelberg). Michel, C. 1912. Recueil dinscriptions grecques. Supplement (Paris). Osborne,

R.

1999.

“Inscribing

Performance,”

in

S.

Goldhill

&

R.

Osborne

(eds.),

Performance Culture and Athenian Democracy (Cambridge) 341-358. Papachristodoulou, I. 1973. ArchDelt 28.B1: 46-48.

Pirtakys, K.S. 1839. “Σημειώσεις ἐπὶ τῶν λιθογραφημάτων," ArchEph: 143-295. Pittakys, K.S. 1842. “Σημειώσεις ἐπὶ τῶν λιθογραφημάτων," ArchEph: 471-625. Rhodes, P.J. 1993. A Commentary on the Aristotelian Athenaion Politeia (Oxford). Rotroff, 5.1. & J.McK. Camp II. 1996. “The Date of the Third Period of the Pnyx,” Hesperia 65: 262-294. Schwenk, C. 1985. Athens in the Age of Alexander. The Dated Laws and Decrees of the Lykourgan Era (Chicago). Sickinger, J. 1994. Review of Thomas (1992), in CP 87: 273-278. Thomas, R. 1992. Literacy and Orality in Ancient Greece (Cambridge). Von Eickstedt, K-V. 1991. Beiträge zur Topographie des Antiken Piräus, Βιβλιοθήκη τῆς ἐν ᾿Αθήναις ᾿Αρχαιολογικῆς ᾿Εταιρείας 118 (Athens).

NOTES 1.

Andoc. 1.82; cf. 1.85, where he confirms the location of these laws “in the stoa” (εἰς τὴν στοάν). For the identification of this stoa with the Stoa Basileios, see Agora ΠῚ 21-25, 22 no. 6. The publication clause of Drakon’s law: IG 1’ 104.7-8. For earlier laws set up at this stoa, see Arist. (1993)

134-135.

SEG 26 72.44-47; IG I? 140.31-35; SEG 12 87.24-27; IG Il? 333.12.

με

Ath. Pol. 7.1 and the commentary in Rhodes

2.

SEG 36 146; Agora I 7495; IG IT? 244; SEG 18 13; SEG 35 83. IG IV 244, Peiraieus Museum inv. 1709. Ed. pr. Dragatsis (1900a). Texts of the law and syngraphai: Foucart (1902), correcting the text of Dragatsis on the basis of his own readings from a squeeze and with verification of two letters by A. Wilheim; Frickenhaus (1905), reproducing Foucart (1902) for the law and Dragatsis (1900a) for the syngraphat, with corrections to cach based on verifications by ©. Washbum; H. Lattermann, his 1907 text by autopsy, published by Kirchner, IG I? 244; Maier (1959), by autopsy. Versions of the texts not based on autopsy: Michel (1912) 33-35 no. 1465; 80-81 no. 1515, who largely reprints the text of Foucart (1902);

4.

Schwenk

(1985)

19-22

no.

3, who

adapts the texts of Kirchner and

Maier.

Readings

of this

inscription and of all others excerpted in this study are mine by autopsy except in the case of letters now lost, which are underlined and are credited on first reference. For the date of 337/6 BC, I follow Maier (1959) 40. For summaries of scholarship on the date, see Schwenk (1985) 24-26, who argues for 338/7; von Eickstedt (1991) 30-31.

THE LOCATION

OF INSCRIBED LAWS IN FOURTH-CENTURY

ATHENS

613

For the findspots, cf. von Eickstedt (1991) map 2, “Fundkarte Bebauung” no. 61 (the theater);

map 4, “Fundkarte Steinbrüche” no. 53 (the stele); summary of the excavation of JG IT? 244, ibid 244, Cat, IIV3.53. L. 3: τὰ περὶ τήν Dragatais; [καὶ τὰ περὶ τήν Lattermann apud IG; περὶ τήν Maier app. crit. | | L. 4: ἰδὲ καὶ τά Dragatsis; δὲ καὶ τά JG (source not stated); (—} τά Maier app. cnt. || L 5: [ἐπιμσκευασθῶσιν Dragatsis, /G (source not stated), Maier. Foucart (1902) 177, 188; of |. 4 permits

for the upsilon, read iota. The uncertain length of the lacuna at the end

as well the restorations Mloviylaci,

ΜΙουνιχίασι)

or Mfouviztacive

cf., in the

syngraphai, the variation between Il. 47-48: Movixyt(jam and I. 92: ἐν τῆι ΜουνιχΙίαι}. Dragatsis (1900a) 100. For the interpretation of γενικὸν μέρος, cf. Dragatsis’ contrast, p. 96, between the law (περιλαμβάνεται γενικῶς περὶ τῆς ἐπισκευῆς τῶν τειχῶν τοῦ Πειραιῶς καὶ τῆς ἐπιμελείας αὐτῶν) and the syngraphai (διὰ τὴν ἐπισκευὴν τοῦ τείχους τοῦ Μουνιχίασι). The text of 1. 3-4 of the law and Il. 1-2, 90-92 of the syngraphai supports the contrast. Dragatsis (1900a) 100; (1900b) 37 (the latter two quotations). Cf, also, Dragarsis (1900a) 91, 96-97; the plan anticipated on p. 92 τὸ be forthcoming in the Πρακτικά of the same year was

apparently never published. I thank L. Costaki for her spirited help in interpreting some elliptical statements in the ed. pr. 10.

See the map by ΗΝ. Ulrichs, reproduced in von Eickstedt (1991) 13, Fig. 6. In a later, impassioned description of modern destruction of the ancient walls of Peiraicus, Dragatsis (1922-

11.

For readings and interpretation of the passage naming the proposer, see the Appendix.

12.

L. 2: ἀγαθῇ τύχῃ tof —] Dragatsis; ἀγαθῇ τύχῃ τοῦ [δήμου τῶν ᾿Αθηναίων! Wilhelm apud /G, Maier. The invocation ἀγαθῇ τύχῃ τοῦ δήμου (“may good fortune attend the demos”) might, or might not, have been succeeded in our law by the phrase τῶν ᾿Αθηναίων (“of the Athenians”), familiar from fourth-century Athenian decrees. Among fourth-century laws, the four-word version of the phrase is used in Agora I 7495.4; τῶν ᾿Αθηναίων is joined to it in SEG 12 87.5-6; and in SEG 18 13.4, as in JG II’ 244, a lacuna prevents a decision between the alternatives.

13.

The rho was read by Dragatsis and Maier, and is recorded without source in /G.

14.

L. 49: τεμοῦσιν; 1]. 51-52: πελεκήσουσιν; |. 56: κομιοῦσι; 1. 59: καθαιρήσονται.

15.

We do not know how near the original end of the syngraphai the extant text is: the break at the bottom of the stele has removed some lines, and the break at the right edge might have removed other columns. Estimates of columns lost from the syngraphai have varied from one - Foucart (1902) 181 - to two - Frickenhaus (1905) 15 - and, as I hope to argue elsewhere, are very possibly none. Text effaced in I. 113 is my basis for stating that we are not at the end, although

24) 16-18 makes no comment on the walls in this area.

we may be very close.

16.

L. 30: [ὁπόσ᾽ Dragatsis; (ôxkx JG (source not stated), Maier.

17.

The grammatical function of τοῖς μισθωσαμένοις in this last clause is unclear, and leaves some doubt about the role assigned in these lines to these men. If the phrase is a dative of purpose, the men κεχειροτονημένοι ὑπὸ τοῦ δήμου (“voted for by the demos”) are here renamed as μισθωσάμενοι,

18.

and

are probably those whose

names

are inscribed

in the roster succeeding

|. 45.

Alternatively, and less fruitfully, the dative may function as indirect object, in which case the misthosamenc: figure here as the recipients of something previously named and now lost from the text. The former possibility seems to me the more likely. On the proposition that the accounts /G II? 1656 & 1657 originated in the wall at Eetioneia from which they were recovered, see the skeptical observations of von Eickstedt (1991) 41 ἃ 42 with n. 181. The thicknesses of the two blocks, 0.50 and 0.42m, respectively, almost certainly secure

19.

20.

their identification as wallblocks - for the dimensions, see Maier (1959) 21-23 nos. 1 & 2, where each is described as a “Mauerquader” found “in Fundament” - but proposals for assigning them to any particular wall have not been convincing. Von Eickstedt (1991) 272-275, in a chart of identified quarries and their dates of operation. Others since found, largely in rescue excavations, will be included in a forthcoming study of the quarries of Peiraieus by M.K. Langdon, whom I thank for allowing me to consult a draft of his manuscript. This quarry, numbered “91” by von Eickstedt, is included in his catalog of quarries (p. 249; cf. pp. 176-177 for further description of the site) and on his map 4. Grounds for fifth- and carly

M.B. RICHARDSON

614

fourth-century BC activity at the quarry are two inscriptions - SEG 26 267 and an unpublished “sacred law referring to worship of the Moirai” (loc. cit.) - dated by the excavator, I. Papachristodoulou, on the basis of letterforms, to the second half of the fourth century BC. For these finds and the dates, see Papachristodoulou (1973) 48 with n. 5.

21.

22.

Quarries for the fourth-century BC retaining wall of the Pnyx and for the contemporary akropolis wall of Phokian Panopeus were “some twenty-five to fifty meters away and higher up”; Camp, in Rotroff& Camp (1996) 272. The maximum width of the stele is measured at 1. 48. The floor of the cutting is generally level from its eastern edge to a point 0.56m to the west, where it rises to a higher and less level plane and continues another 0.84-0.89m to a vertical dropoff of the floor of the quarry. Not to be taken into account as evidence for the original siting of /G IT? 244 are the bored hole and horizontal

channel on the top of the stele, described by Maier (1959) 36 as “Dübeleinlaß” and “Ablauf.” These cuttings are certainly modern, set into the stone presumably to secure the ste/e for display. I am grateful to C.L. Lawton for examining and discussing these cuttings. 23.

“Complex Gamma”:

Papachristodoulou (1973) 46-47. For excellent photographs of this flight

of stairs, and of their orientation to modern landmarks, see his plates 33a, 34y (top left). 24,

The dropoff is ca. 0.65m to the east, 0.90m to the west, and ca. 0.50m to the south of the cutting. Between the cutting and the southern edge of this level of the quarry there is preserved a second channel, approximately parallel to this one, its northern edge lying some 0.30-0.40m distant.

Between the two there stands a low outcropping of rock, its top scored by shallow cuttings which are perhaps the marks of wedges, evidence that our cutting, if ic was intended as a channel to serve for the quarrying of a stone, was never used for that purpose.

25.

The niche is ca. 0.55m high, ca. 0.55m wide at its floor, and ca. 0.22m deep. The cutting set into its floor is positioned slightly north of center and measures 0.14 x 0.14m, its maximum depth 0.10m.

26.

V. Petrakos, in ArchDel: 33 (1978) Bl, 51, notes without description the discovery elsewhere in

Peiraieus of a niche carved on a face of quarried rock and remarks that “similar niches are frequently found in the quarries of the Peiraian coast”. He conjectures that they were used for the storage of tools, a function for which the niche at Προφήτης ᾿Ηλίας does not seem suited. C.L. Lawton has kindly pointed out to me that the cutting in our niche is suited to receive a tenon or plinth, and that this niche more likely served a function of display than of storage. Outside of Peiraieus, votive niches are reported in the vicinity of quarries in Panopeus

(Camp, in Rotroff & Camp [1996] 273) and on Euboia (Dworakowska [1975] 33). 27. 28. 29.

I thank J. Camp,

K. Daly, 5. Larson, and A. Yasur-Landau

for combing the quarry with this

inscription in mind. Dragatsis (1900a) 101. L. 40: κλείωνται Dragatsis, Wilhelm apud IG, Maier. Von Eickstedt (1991) 145 briefly notes and provides a photograph

of excavations underway

by the Second

Ephoreia

at the east and west

towers of the wall at Eetioneia, and mentions also their anticipated publication by G. Steinhauer. Cleaning and fencing of the area is reported in Τὸ ἔργο τοῦ ΥΠΠῸ (Troupyelo Πολιτισμού) 2 (1998) 73, and the site showed evidence in November struction,

30.

1999 of large-scale excavations and recon-

Foucart (1902) 187. Osborne (1999) 346 modifies the convention: “The vast majority of Athenian decrees which do not directly relate to a particular locanon (laws on silver coinage to the mint, grain laws to the agora, and so on) were put on display on the Acropolis” (italics mine), without

31. 32.

substantiating the allusion to “laws” on silver coinage and grain “laws”; the assignment of these to “the mint” and the Agora, respectively; nor the equating of Athenian laws and decrees. Findspots: Pittakys (1839) 265; (1842) 567. The lines of debate over the function of inscribed documents in Classical Athens and its relevance to the incidence of literacy are well-illustrated by Thomas

33.

(1992) and Sickinger (1994).

L. 2: [—J]io¢ Dragatsis; “Agid{vafiog Dragatsis (my interpretation of his majuscule text); ᾿Αφιδναῖος Frickenhaus apud 1G; [---]vaioc Maier app. crit. I read from the stone nothing in this line prior to the verb. Of the iota in εἶπεν (Dragatsis, Lattermann, Maier: ID I read the lower half of a centered vertical.

THE LOCATION

OF INSCRIBED LAWS IN FOURTH-CENTURY

ATHENS

615

cited in LGPN

II s.v.

34.

The example ᾿Αφιδναῖος.

35.

Personal name of the proposer: SEG 26 72 (375,4 BC), SEG 36 146 (374/3 BC), Agora 1 7495

in Agora XV

61 is the only instance of this personal name

(354/3 BC). Personal name, patronymic, and demotic of the proposer: /G II? 140 (353/2 BC), SEG 12 87 (337/6 BC), SEG 18 13 (336?-322? BC), IG I? 333 (ca. 335/4 BC), SEG 35 83 (unpublished, probably late fourth-century BC; third-century BC in the opinion of its excavator,

36.

J. Papadimitriou; see SEG 35 83). Dates given here which differ from those published elsewhere are my own, which I plan to present in future studies. Henry (1977) 32 upholds the distinction - “as from 354/3 orators customarily bear both patronymic and demotic” - undeterred by the exceptions /G IT’ 366; 598; 662 (with Add.) + SEG 16 62; /G IP 1071; and 1078, which he cites on pp. 43, 61, 74, 95, and 99, respectively. /G Il 244 is not addressed in his study.

37.

I thankJ. Camp and R.S. Stroud for their helpful critiques of an earlier draft of this paper. M.K. Langdon, C.L. Lawton, and an anonymous reviewer graciously helped with final revisions.

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“Two Notes on the Pnyx. In Memory of Fordyce W. Mitchel,” GRBS 26: 241250. Republished with addenda in The Athentan Ecclesia Il (Copenhagen 1989) 129-141. “A Typology of the Women Recorded on Gravestones from Attica,” AJAH 10: 178-190. (With Torben Vestergaard er ai.).

1986 “Det athenske demokrati, — traditionens og mytens historiske baggrund,” in R. Thomsen (ed.), Det Athenske Demokran 1 samtidens og eftertidens syn 1.13-88 (Arhus). Republished with a new introduction in: Klassikerforeningens Kildehæfter (1986), and a revised version as: Demokrariet 1 Athen (Copenhagen 1993).

179 pp. “Sofisterne,”

in

R.

Thomsen

(ed.),

Det

Athenske

Demokrati

1 samtidens

og

eftertidens syn 1.191-206 (Arhus). “Filosofferne

Sokrates,

Platon

og

Aristoteles,”

in

R.

Thomsen

Athenske Demokrati i samtidens og eftertidens syn 1.245-270 (Arhus).

(ed.),

Der

BIBLIOGRAPHIA HANSENIANA

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“Klerosis ek Prokriton in Fourth-Century Athens,” CP 81: 222-229. “The Origin of the Term Demokratia,” LCM

11: 35-36.

“The Construction of Pnyx II and the Introduction of Assembly Pay,” CiMed 37: 1-10. Republished with addenda in The Athenian Ecclesia II (Copenhagen 1989) 143-153. “Athenian Nomothesia,”

GRBS 26: 345-371.

1987 “Folkestyre, folketale og feltherretalen for slaget,” Museum Tusculanum 57: 104106.

The Athenian Assembly in the Age of Demosthenes (Oxford) 249 pp. Revised and updated version of: Die athenische Volksversammlung im Zeitalter des Demosthenes (Konstanz 1984), Xenta 13. 211 pp. “How Often Did the Athenian Ekklesia Meet? A Reply,” GRBS 28: 35-50. Republished with addenda in The Atheman Ecclesia Il (Copenhagen 1989) 177194. “Rhetores and Strategoi: Addenda et Corrigenda,” GRBS 28: 209-211. “An Attic Decree of 347/6? (Peek, Kerameikos IH no.!),” CiMed 38: 75-79. “Graphe Paranomon Against Psephismata not yet Passed by the Ekklesia,” ClMed 38: 63-73. Republished with addenda in The Atheman Ecclesia II (Copenhagen 1989) 271-281. “Did Kleisthenes Use the Lot when Trittyes were Allocated to Tribes?” 43-44,

AW 15:

1988 Three Studies in Atheman Demography, Det Kongelige Danske Videnskabernes Selskab. Historisk-filosofiske Meddelser 56 (Copenhagen). 28 pp. “The Organization of the Athenian Assembly. A Reply,” GRBS 29: 51-58.

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“The Athenian Board of Generals. When was Tribal Representation Replaced by Election from all Athenians?” in A. Damsgaard-Madsen er al. (eds.), Sruches in Ancient History and Numismanics Presented to Rudi Thomsen (Arhus) 69-70. “The Average Age of Athenian Bouleutai and the Proportion of Bouleutai who Served Twice,” LCM

13: 67-69.

“Demography and Democracy Once Again,” ZPE 75: 189-193. “Was the Athenian Demokratia

a Democracy?” Ormond Papers 5: 56-67. (The

Allen Memorial lecture 1988).

1989 “Var det athenske demokratia et demokrati?” Klasstkerforeningens Meddelelser 123: 13-34.

Was Athens a Democracy ? Popular Rule, Liberty and Equality in Ancient and Modern Political Thought, Det Kongelige Danske Videnskabernes Selskab. Historisk-filosofiske Meddelelser 59 (Copenhagen). 46 pp. The Athenian Ecclesia II. A Collection of Articles 1983-89 (Copenhagen). Revised edition of earlier articles.

324 pp.

“Athenian Democracy -- Institutions and Ideology,” CP 84: 137-148. “Athenian Democracy,” CR 39: 69-76, “Solonian Democracy in Fourth-Century Athens,” CiMed 40: 71-99 (also published in: Aspects of Athenian Democracy ClMed Dissertanones XI [1990] 7199). “Athenian Grave Monuments Thomas Heine Nielsen εἰ al.).

and

Social

Class,”

GRBS

30: 411-420

(With

“On the Importance of Institutions in an Analysis of Athenian Democracy,” ClMed 40: 107-113. Republished with addenda in The Athentan Ecclesia II (Copenhagen 1989) 263-269. “Demos, Ekklesia and Dikasterion. A Reply To Martin Ostwald and Josiah Ober,” CiMed 40: 101-106. Republished with addenda in The Athenian Ecclesia II (Copenhagen 1989) 213-218. “Demography and Democracy -- A Reply to Eberhard Ruschenbusch,” Ancient History Bullen 3: 40-44.

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1990 “The Political Powers of the People’s Court in Fourth-Century Athens,” in O. Murray & S. Price (eds.), The Greek City from Homer to Alexander (Oxford) 215243. “Diokles’ Law (Dem. 24.42) and the Revision of the Athenian Corpus of Laws in the Archonship of Eukleides,” CiMed 41: 63-71. “The Size of the Council of the Areopagos and its Social Composition in the Fourth Century B.C.,” ClMed 41: 73-77 (with Lars Pedersen). “Asty, Mesogeios and Paralia. In Defence of Arist. Ath. Pol. 21.4,” CiMed 41: 51-54. “When was Selection by Lot of Magistrates Introduced in Athens?” CiMed 41: 55-61. Review of J. Ober, Mass and Elite, in CR 40: 348-356. “The Demography of the Attic Demes. The Evidence of the Sepulchral Inscriptions,” Analecta Romana 19: 25-44. (With L. Bjertrup et ai.). 1991 Hvor ved vi der fra? Om kilderne nl det athenske demokran, Studier fra Sprog og Oldtidsforskningen 317. 47 pp. Hvorfor henrettede athenerne Sokrates?, Kiassikerforeningens kildehefter 1991. 39 pp. Originally published in Museum Tusculanum 40-43 (1980) 55-82. The Athenian Democracy in the Age of Demosthenes. Structure, Principles and Ideology (Oxford) 408 pp. Editions in German (Akademieverlag, Berlin 1995); French (Presses Universitaires de France, Les belles Lettres, Paris 1993); and Polish (Wydawniciwo, Warszawa 1999). “Adoption in Hellenistic and Roman Athens,” ClMed 42: 139-151. (With L. Rubinstein ez al.). “Response to D.M. MacDowell,” in Symposion 1990, ed. M. Gagarin (Cologne and Vienna)

199-201.

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1992 Hvad er en poliniker og hvem er polittkere? Et essay om politikerbegrebet ı dagens Danmark, Historisk-filosofiske Meddelelser 65, Det Kongelige Danske Videnskabernes Selskab (Copenhagen). 69 pp. “Refleksioner over de historiske afsnit i Peter Green: Alexander to Actium,” in T.

Engberg-Pedersen et al. (eds.), Fra Alexander nl apokalyser (Arhus) 7-23. “A Magisterial Inventory of Athenian Officials,” review article, CP 87: 51-61. “The Tradition of Athenian Democracy, A.D.

1750-1990,” GaR 50: 14-30.

“The Age-Structure of Athenian Citizens Commemorated Inscriptions,” ClMed 43: 5-21. (With T. Vestergaard er al.).

in

Sepulchral

1993 Demokranet 1 Athen (Copenhagen). 179 pp. Revised version of an article originally published as: “Det athenske Demokrati, - Traditionens og Mytens historiske Baggrund,” in R. Thomsen

(ed.), Det Athenske Demokran 1 samtidens

og eftertidens syn 1.13-88 (Arhus 1986). Anstoteles om mennesket. Brologi, etik, polink (Copenhagen). 112 pp. (With Johnny Christensen et al.).

“Aristoteles’ to modsatte opfattelser af den græske polis,” Klassikerforeningens Meddelelser 147: 15-24. “Demokrati i 2500 ar,” Weekendavisen 10/1.

“Demokrati pr telefon,” Polinken 10/2. “Folkets rost uden skælven,” Poliniken 26/10. “Den enkeltes magt og frihed,” Weekendavisen 23/12. “The Pols as a Citizen-State,” CPCActs

1: 7-29.

“Aristotle’s Alternative to the Sixfold Model

of Constitutions,” in M.

Piérart

(ed.), Anstote et Athènes, Fribourg (Suisse) 23-25 mai 1991. Actes de la table ronde Centenaire de l’Athenaion Politeia, Études rassemblées par Marcel Piérart, Fribourg: Séminaire d’histoire ancienne de l’université (Paris) 91-101.

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627

“Was the Athenian Ekkiesia Convened according to the Festival Calendar or the Bouleutic Calendar?” AFP 114: 99-113. “The Battle Exhortation in Ancient Historiography,” Historia 42: 161-180.

1994 Kilder nl Demokranet 1 Athen (Copenhagen).

151 pp.

50 mytologiske limericks — og andre vers om de gamle grækere (Copenhagen). “Polets and City-States, 600-323 B.C. CPCPapers 1: 9-17.

A Comprehensive Research Programme,”

“Potts, Civitas, Stadtstaat and City-State,” CPCPapers 1: 19-22. “Monumental Political Architecture in Archaic and Classical Greek Poleis. Evidence and Historical Significance,” CPCPapers 1: 23-90. (With Tobias Fischer-Hansen). “Polis, Politeuma and Politeia.

A Note on Arist. Pol. 1278b6-14,” CPCPapers 1:

91-98. “The Number of Athenian Citizens secudum Sekunda,” EchC! 38: 299-310.

“The 2500th Anniversary of Cleisthenes’ Reforms and the Tradition of Athenian Democracy,” in R. Osborne & 5. Hornblower (eds.), Ritual, Finance, Politics. Athenian Democranc Accounts Presented to David Lewis (Oxford) 25-37. 1995

“Den oldgræske bystat - og centret til dens udforskning,” Universitets Almanak 1995 (Copenhagen) 170-176.

in Kebenhavns

“Boiotian Poleis - A Test Case,” CPCAczs 2: 13-63.

“The ‘Autonomous City-State’. Ancient Fact or Modern Fiction?” CPCPapers 2: 21-43.

“Kome. A Study in How the Greeks Designated and Classified Settlements Which Were Not Poleis,” CPCPapers 2: 45-81. The Trial of Sokrates - from the Athenian Point of View, Historisk-filosofiske Meddelelser 71, Det Kongelige Danske Videnskabernes Selskab (Copenhagen). 36 pp. Also published in M. Sakkelariou (ed.), Democratie athénienne et culture,

628

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Colloque international organisé par l’academie d’Athénes en coopération avec PUnesco, 23, 24 et 25 novembre

1992 (Athens 1996)

137-170.

1996 “Den lille gra hest — kong Henrik d. V’s tale fer slaget ved Agincourt,” in ME. Christensen er al. (eds.), Hvad tales her om? 46 artikler om græsk-romersk kultur, Festskrift tl Johnny Christensen (Copenhagen) 277-283. “Πολλαχῶς πόλις λέγεται (Arist. Pol. 1276a23). The Copenhagen Inventory of Poleis and the Lex Hafniensis de Civitate,” CPCActs 3: 7-72; an abbreviated version of this paper was published in L.G. Mitchell & P.J. Rhodes, The Development of the Polis in Archaic Greece (London & New York 1997) 9-23. “An Inventory of Boiotian Poleis in the Archaic and Classical Periods,” CPCActs 3: 73-116. “Were the Boiotian Polets Deprived of their Autonoma During the First and Second Boiotian Federations? A Reply,” CPC Papers 3: 127-136. “Pseudo-Skylax’

Use

of the Term

Poks,” CPCPapers

3: 137-167.

(With

P.

Flensted-Jensen).

“City-Ethnics as Evidence for Polis Identity,”

CPC Papers 3: 169-196.

“Aristotle’s Two Complementary Views of the Greek Polis,” in R.W. Wallace & E. Harris (eds.), Transinons to Empire. Essays in Greek and Roman History in Honor of E. Badian (Norman) 196-210. “The Trial of Sokrates - from the Athenian Point of View,” in M. Sakkelariou (ed.), Démocratie athenienne et culture, Colloque international organisé par Yacademie

d’Athénes

en coopération

avec l'Unesco,

23, 24 et 25 novembre

1992 (Athens) 137-170. Also published as: Historisk-filosofiske Meddelelser 71, Det Kongelige Danske Videnskabernes Selskab (Copenhagen 1995). 36 pp. “Reflections on the Number of Citizens Accomodated in the Assembly Place on the Pnyx,” in B. Forsén & G. Stanton (eds.), The Pryx in the History of Athens (Helsinki) 23-33. “The Ancient Athenian and the Modern Liberal View of Liberty as a Democratic Ideal,” in J. Ober & C. Hedrick (eds.), Demokrana. A Conversation on Democracies, Ancient and Modern (Princeton, NJ) 91-104.

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1997 “The Polis as an Urban CPCAets 4: 9-85.

Centre.

The Literary and Epigraphical

Evidence,”

“Πόλις as the Generic Term for State,” CPCPapers 4: 9-15. “Hekataios’ Use of the Term Polis in His Penegesis,” “A Typology of Dependent Poleis,”

CPC Papers 4: 17-27.

CPC Papers 4: 29-37.

“Emporion. A Study of the Use and Meaning of the Term in the Archaic and Classical Periods,” CPC Papers 4: 29-37. “One Hundred and Sixty Theses about Athenian Democracy,” CiMed 48: 205265. A slighty different version of this article was printed as chapter 14 of the 2nd edn. of The Athenian Democracy in the Age of Demosthenes, Bristol Classical Paperbacks (Bristol 1999). 1998 Polis and City-State. An Ancient Concept and tts Modern Equivalent, CPCActs 5. (Copenhagen). 217 pp. “The Little Grey Horse - Henry V’s Speech at Agincourt Exhortation in Ancient Historiography,” Histos 2.

and

the Battle

“Hansen on Chaniotis on Hansen. Response to A. Chaniotis’ review (BMCR 97.7.16) of M.H. Hansen (ed.), Introduction to an Inventory of Poleis,” BMCR 98.2.7. 1999 The Athenian Democracy in the Age of Demosthenes, 2nd edn, Bristol Classical Paperbacks (Bristol 1999). With a new chapter 14: One Hundred and Sixty Theses about Athenian Democracy, a slighty different version of the article: “One Hundred and Sixty Theses about Athenian Democracy,” ClMed 48: 205-

265. 447 pp. “Aristotle’s Reference to the Arkadian Federation Pol. 1261a29,” CPCActs 6: 80-88.

Review of E.C. Robinson, The First Democracies. Early Popular Government Outside Athens, Historia Einzelschrifen 107 (Stuttgart) BMCR 99.9.17.

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2000 “The Use of the Word Polis in the Fragments of Some Historians,”

CPC Papers

5: 141-150. (With Thomas Heine Nielsen).

“The Use of the Word Polis in the Atuc Orators,” CPCPapers 5: 151-160. “The Use of the Word Polis in Inscriptons,” CPCPapers Pernille Flensted-Jensen & Thomas Heine Nielsen). “A Survey of the Use of the Word CPCPapers 5: 173-215.

5: 161-172.

(With

Polis in Archaic and Classical Sources,”

“The Concepts of City-State and City-State Culture,” in M.H.

Hansen

(ed.),

A Comparative Study of of Thirty City-State Cultures. An Investigation Conducted by the Copenhagen Polts Centre (Copenhagen) 11-34. “The Hellenic Polis,” in M.H. Hansen (ed.), A Comparanue Study of Thirty CityState Cultures. An Investigation Conducted by the Copenhagen Polis Centre (Copenhagen) 141-187. “The Kotoko City-States”, in M.H. Hansen (ed.), A Comparative Study of Thirry City-State Cultures. An Investigation conducted by the Copenhagen Polis Centre (Copenhagen) 531-32. “The Impact of City-State Cultures on World History,” in M.H. Hansen (ed.), A Comparative Study of Thirty City-State Cultures. An Investigation Conducted by the Copenhagen Polis Centre (Copenhagen) 597-623.

Tabula Gratulatoria

Mananne Alenius & Ivan Boserup

John Betts, editor

Kobenhavn

Bristol Classical Press

Benedikte & Thomas Alkjær Skovlenge

Bibliothèque des Sciences de l'Antiquité Université de Lille 3

Lene Breum Andersen Kebenhavn

Lone Merk Andersen & Erik Skyum-Nieisen Copenhagen Bivind Andersen Oslo Antikkens Venner Prof. Dr. Alexandru Avram Bucharest

Lars Bjertrup Bjernetjenesten US Karin & Jerker Blomquist Lund Alan L. Boegehold Professor Brian Bosworth University of Western Australia Roger Brock University of Leeds

Dr. Michel Austin

University of St Andrews

Pr. Patrice Brun Centre Ausonius

E. Badian, John Moore Cabot

Université Michel-Montaigne,

Professor of History Emeritus Harvard University

Bordeaux, France

Patrick Baker, Professeur adjoint Département d’histoire,

lektor Clara Elisabeth Bryld, Frederiksberg

Professor Claus Bryld, RUC,

&

Université Laval, Québec Ole Balslev Odense

Robert J. Buck Professor Emeritus of Classics, University of Alberta

Erik Barfoed, forlagsredaktor

Professor John Buckler University of Illinois, USA

Tennes Bekker-Nielsen

Esbjerg

Walter Burkert University of Zürich

Victor Bers

Yale University

T.V. Buttrey

632

TABULA GRATULATORIA

Dr. Adam Bülow-Jacobsen & Dr. Helene Cuvigny Hanne & Lars Berentzen William M. Calder III

The Villa Movitz, Urbana,

Centre Edouard Will “Le Monde Méditerranéen Antique” Université de Nancy 2 Lektor Bent Christensen Gentofte

Illinois, USA

John McK. Camp II Edwin Carawan Classical Languages SMSU, Springfield MO 65804 Prof. Chris Carey Royal Holloway, University of London Prof. Jack Cargill Rutgers University Pierre Carlier, professeur d’histoire grecque a l’université de Paris X

Lektor Lone Christensen Virum

Jean Christensen Kobenhavn Karsten Christensen Valby

Lis & Johnny Christensen Kobenhavn Lektor, cand.mag. Susanne Christensen Copenhagen Lektor Sven A. Christensen

Allerad Gymnasium Jesper Carlsen, Odense Universitet, & Birte Poulsen, Kobenhavns Universitet

Docent, dr.phil. Erik Christiansen Historisk Institut, Aarhus Universitet

Anne Marie Carstens

Klassisk Arkæologi, Kabenhavns Universitet

Paul Cartledge Cambridge R.W.V. Catling University of Oxford Mr. G.L. Cawkwell University College, Oxford

Classics Library University of Illinois at UrbanaChampaign, USA Dr. Edward E. Cohen Philadelphia, USA Prof. John Collis University of Sheffield Frederick A. Cooper University of Minnesota

Center for Greesk-Romerske Studier

Syddansk Universitet, Odense Universitet

Professor Tim Cornell University of Manchester

TABULA GRATULATORIA

James Coulton

Marianne Eliensdatter & Niels Herman Hansen

M.H. Crawford University College London

Amagerbro

John Crook The Danish Institute at Athens

Herefondos 14, 10558 Athens,

633

Lektor Eva Engelund Hartmannsvej 10, 2900 Hellerup Journalist Jergen Feder Museum Tusculanums bestyrelse

Greece The Danish National Research Foundation

Professor, dr.phil. Ole Feldbæk University of Copenhagen Henrik Fich

Professor John K. Davies Liverpool Dr. Philip de Souza St. Mary’s College, Strawberry Hill

Tobias Fischer-Hansen & Mette Moltesen Kobenhavn Professor Nick Fisher

Susan Deacy University of Keele Dr. Jean-Claude Decourt Institut Fernand-Comby, Lyon Department of Classics University of Cape Town Peter Derow

Pernille Flensted-Jensen Institut for Græsk og Latin Dr. Jeannette Forsen, University of Gothenburg & Dr. Björn Forsen, University of Helsinki Cand.mag. Karin Margareta Fredborg

Wadham College, Oxford Mag.art. Rune Frederiksen Det Kongelige Bibliotek Kobenhavn Deutsches Archäologisches Institut Rom

Polis Centeret

Russell L. Friedman & Pernille Harsting Frederiksberg

Prof. Adolfo J. Dominguez Madrid

Ib Friis, Dr.scient., fil.dr. Botanisk Museum og Centralbibliotek, Kobenhavns

Prof. Dr. Martin Dreher Universität Magdeburg

Universitet

Orto & Bodil Due Arhus Universitet

Karsten Friis-Jensen Frederiksberg Peter Funke

Elementarkursus i Græsk og Latin

University of Münster

634

TABULA GRATULATORIA

Vincent Gabrielsen Kobenhavn

School of Historical Studies, Princeton, New Jersey

Ingrid & Einar Gade-Jorgensen Hillered

Jonathan M. Hall The University of Chicago

Michael Gagarin

Debra Hamel

North Haven, CT Professor Dr. Hans-Joachim Gehrke University of Freiburg/Breisgau Helle Gjellerup

Lise & Niels Hannestad Institut for Klassisk Arkæologi, Aarhus Universitet

Arhus

Hannah Krogh Hansen Institut for Greesk og Latin

Glasgow University Library Glasgow, Scotland

Cand.mag. Ib Flemming Hansen Seborg

Mark Golden University of Winnipeg

Katia Karner Hansen

Ivar Gjerup, cartoonist, cand.mag.

Stud.mag. Marie-Louise Pade Ittai Gradel A. John Graham University of Pennsylvania Prof. (Emerit.) Peter Green Iowa City, USA Lektor Niels Jorgen Green-Pedersen

Hansen Kobenhavn Toke Holt Hansen Kobenhavn

Advokat (H) Torben Ingernann Hansen Copenhagen

Kobenhavn

Frans Gregersen Kobenhavn David Gress Aarhus University & Boston University

Theodor Harbsmeier Kebenhavn

Merete Harding Danmarks Nationalleksikon Dr. Edward M. Harris

City University of New York Fritz Gschnitzer Heidelberg Sebastian Gulmann Kobenhavn

Christian Habicht, Institute for Advanced Study,

Professor W.V. Harris Columbia University Thomas Harrıson Dept. of History, University College London

TABULA GRATULATORIA David Harvey Exeter

Dr. Yuzuru Hashiba Osaka University of Foreign Languages, Japan

635

Karin & Henrik Holmboe Egaa, Danmark Simon Homblower

Poul Hynding, forstebibliotekar Odense

Helene Blinkenberg Hastrup Professor Kirsten Hastrup Institute of Anthropology,

Gudrun Haastrup & Birger Munk Olsen Copenhagen

University of Copenhagen Prof. Miltiades Hatzopoulos, director Ethniko Idryma Ereunon, Athens

Vibeke Ingemann, specialkonsulent Kort & Matrikelstyrelsen Institut for Gresk og Latin University of Copenhagen

Charles W. Hedrick, Jr. University of California, Santa Cruz

Institut for Oldtid og Middelalder Arhus Universitet

Helsinger Gymnasium Professor Emeritus Alan S. Henry Dept. of Greek, University of St. Andrews Prof. Dr. Peter Herz Regensburg

Jacob Isager Syddansk Universitet Signe Isager, direkter Det Danske Institut i Athen Christian Iuul, lektor

Hjerring Overlege, professor, dr.med. Lars Heslet

Jonas luul Kebenhavn

Jette & Rolf Hesse Historisk Institut Kobenhavns Universitet

Michael H. Jameson, Professor of Classics, Emeritus Stanford University, C.A., USA

Finn Hobel Hundested

Jan Rohde Jensen

Stephen Hodkinson University of Manchester

Jergen Steen Jensen, Keeper of Coins Royal Collection of Coins and

Professor, Dr.phil. Poul Holm Syddansk Universitet, Esbjerg

Medals, National Museum,

Signe Holm-Larsen

Prof. Minna Skafte Jensen Syddansk Universitet, Odense

Danmarks Nationalleksikon

Kobenhavn

Copenhagen

636

TABULA

Prof. Dr. Peter Johanek Universitat Münster

GRATULATORIA

Dr. Ronald A. Knox University of Glasgow

Bente Friis Johansen Risskov

David Konstan

Professor, dr.phil. Karsten Friis Johansen Nerum

Adjunkt, Ph.D. Jens A. Krasilnikoff

Brown University

Aarhus Universitet

Dr. Peter Krentz Rektor Finn Jorsal

Thisted Gymnasium og HF-kursus Madeleine Jost Professeur à l’Université Paris XNanterre

Davidson College, Davidson NC, USA John H. Kroll Austin, Texas

Beth Juncker & Olav Harslof

Kirsten Kvist Kobenhavns Universitet

Lektor Karen Dreyer Jorgensen Nr. Lyndelse

Adriaan Lanni New Haven

Stig W. Jorgensen Copenhagen Business School

Birgitte Holt Larsen

Morten Blach Jorgensen

Henrik Holt Larsen & Mette Baltzer Knudsen

Kobenhavn

Kobenhavn

Lektor Uffe Karner

Peder Olesen Larsen

Langkær Gymnasium & HF

Helierup

Dr. Yasunori Kasai Niigata University, Japan

Dr.phil. Mogens Trolle Larsen The Carsten Niebuhr Institute, University of Copenhagen

Professor of Classics, Emeritus, John J. Keaney Princeton University

Bente Lassen

Klassisk og Romansk Institutt, Universitetet 1 Oslo

Antony Keen Open University

Emeritus Professor J.F. Lazenby University of Newcastle upon Tyne

Paul Kendall University College London

Ronald Legon, Provost and

Ole Klitgaard

Professor of History The University of Baltimore

Museum

Tusculanum Press

Dominique Lenfant, maitre de Inger & Poul Erik Kluge

conférences d’histoire grecque

TABULA GRATULATORIA

Université Marc Bloch de

Strasbourg

637

Stephen G. Miller University of California, Berkeley

Prof. Louisa Loukopoulou Ethniko Idryma Ereunon, Athens

Paul Millert

Prof. Detlef Lotze Jena

Dr. Lynette G. Mitchell University of Exeter

Christel Tvedegaard Lund Kobenhavn

Dr. Catherine Morgan University of London

Vivi Lund Institut for Gresk og Latin

Sarah Morris & John Papadopoulos Los Angeles

Professor Douglas MacDowell University of Glasgow

Dominique Mulliez Université Charles-de-Gaulle, Lille 3

Mr. Ἐ1Ὶ. McQueen University of Bristol

Dr. Oswyn Murray Balliol College, Oxford

Bengt Malcus Frederiksberg

Marianne Meller

Mr. J.L. Marr University of Exeter

Stig Martin Maller Ringkebing

Professor Thomas R. Martin Worcester, Massachusetts, USA

Christine Nielsen Kebenhavn

Mrs. Elaine Matthews British Academy & Oxford University

Direktor Erland Kolding Nielsen

Downing College, Cambridge

Frederikssund Gymnasium

Lektor Kirsten Holm Nielsen Arhus

Prof. Dr. Georgios Themistokleous Mavrogordatos University of Athens

Kolding

Jorgen Mejer

Thomas Heine Nielsen &

Kebenhavns Universitet

Marianne Moring

Lektor Pou! Birk Nielsen

Kabenhavn Curator Torben Melander Thorvaldsens Museum

Fergus Millar Oxford

Cand.mag. Henrik Nisbeth Bogense Inger Nord Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Kebenhavn

638

TABULA

Josiah Ober, Magie Professor of Ancient History Princeton University Dr. GJ. Oliver The University of Liverpool

GRATULATORIA

Professor Gert Kjærgärd Pedersen Gentofte Christopher Pelling Oxford Paula Perlman

Karen Olsen

Dr. George E. Pesely Maj-Britt Olsen

Clarksville, Tennessee

Kobenhavn Rikke & Olaf Olsen Alre Professor Michael Osborne

Dr. David Phillips Macquarie University, Sydney Marcel Piérart University of Fribourg, Switzerland

La Trobe University Robin Osborne Corpus Christi College, Oxford

Dr. Yanis Pikoulas, Editor of Horos, Associate Research Professor, KERA/NHRF &

Lektor, Dr.phil. Erik Nis Ostenfeld Aarhus Universitet

Dr. Eleni Kourinou, National Archaeological Museum, Athens

Martin Ostwald J. Oulhen Université de Rennes, France

Cand.mag. Bjern Paarmann Kobenhavn

Seren Porsborg Polis Centeret Dr. Frances Skoczylas Pownall University of Alberta Dr. Maria Pretzler

St John’s College, Oxford Ass. research professor, Ph.D. Marianne Pade

Professeur Francis Prost

University of Copenhagen Professor Richard W. Parker St. Catharines, Canada Robert Parker Oxford

Edith Parmentier Université Marc Bloch, Strasbourg Fritz 5. Pedersen Odense Universitet

Kurt Raaflaub Brown University & Center for Hellenic Studies Ulla Rald & Jan Carlsen

Boris Rankov Royal Holloway, University of London Forskningslektor Anders Holm Rasmussen Tollose

TABULA GRATULATORIA Per Methner Rasmussen Elementarkursus, Kobenhavns Universitet

Stud.mag. Thomas Eske Rasmussen Annette Rathje, Institut for Arkæolog og Emologi, Kobenhavns

639

Marcus Schmidt, Chairman,

Society for Direct Democracy in Denmark

Malcolm Schofield University of Cambridge Johan Henrik Schreiner

Universitet, & Gert Serensen, Romansk Institut, Kobenhavns

Oslo

Universitet

Wolfgang Schuller Universitat Konstanz

Gary Reger Trinity College, Hartford, Connecticut, USA

Adam Schwartz Kobenhavn

Prof. P.J. Rhodes University of Durham

Ditte Schwartz Kebenhavn

M.B. Richardson

Graham Shipley University of Leicester

Supplementum Epigraphicum Graecum Helle Salskov Roberts University of Copenhagen

Professor Paul J.J. Sinclair Department of Archaeology and Ancient History, Uppsala University

Denis Rousset, Maitre de

conférences d’histoire grecque Ecole normale supérieure, Paris

Jeanette Lyngfeldt Skov

Christopher Rowe, Professor of Greek, University of Durham

Jens Erik Skydsgaard

Jim Roy University of Nottingham

Professor Anthony Snodgrass University of Cambridge

Lene Rubinstein

Dr. Philip de Souza St. Mary’s College, Strawberry Hill

Univ. Prof. Dr. Hans-Albert Rupprecht Universitat Marburg Françoise Ruzé, professeur @ histoire grecque Université de Caen, France L.J. Samons IT

Boston University

Kobenhavn

Kobenhavn

Professor Brian A. Sparkes University of Southampton, England Professor Tony Spawforth Newcastle upon Tyne Knud Erik Staugaard Veijle

640

TABULA GRATULATORIA

Dr. Karen Stears University of Edinburgh

Johs. Thomsen Viborg

Lektor Morten Stenbæk Kobenhavn

Docent, Dr.phil. Ole Thomsen Aarhus Universitet

Dr. Martina Stercken Universität Zürich

Rudi Thomsen Aarhus University

Docent John Strange Det Teologiske Fakultet, Kebenhavns Universitet

Maja Tinson

Dr. Barry S. Strauss Cornell University Signe Strecker

Kobenhavn

Dr. S.C. Todd University of Keele Annemarie & Giuseppe Torresin Aarhus

Kobenhavn Chr. Gorm Tortzen, lektor Janet Sullivan

University of Leeds Lektor Preben St. Sorensen Aars

Lawrence A. Tritle Loyola Marymount University Christian Troelsgard Kobenhavn

Docent, Dr.phil. Chr. Marinus Taisbak Kobenhavn

Dr. Gocha R. Tsetskhladze University of London

Richard J.A. Talbert University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill

Prof. Alexander Tulin Dept. of Classics, Howard University

Henrik Tange Kobenhavn

Dr. C.J. Tuplin Liverpool

Peter Terkelsen Aarhus Katedralskole

Pernille Tonnesen Kobenhavn

Thisted Gymnasium og HF

University Library of Southern Denmark, Esbjerg

Dr. R. Thomas Royal Holloway, University of London Dorothy & John Thompson Cambridge

Dr. Torben Vestergaard Dept. of Greek and Latin, University of Copenhagen Lotte Marianne Vittrup Kobenhavn

TABULA GRATULATORIA

Dr. Mary Voyatzis University of Arizona

Professor Hector Williams University of British Columbia

Frank Walbank Cambridge

J.M. Williams S.U.N.Y. College at Geneseo

Robert W. Wallace Northwestern University

Freiburg

Carsten Weber-Nielsen University of Copenhagen

Professor Greg Woolf University of St Andrews

Dr. Hans van Wees University College London

Dr. Peter Orsted University of Copenhagen

Fhv. farstebibliotekar, mag.art. Mogens Weitemeyer

Prof. Erik Ostby University of Bergen

Professor David Whitehead The Queen’s University, Belfast

Gstre Borgerdyd Gymnasium

Dr. Eckhard Wirbelauer

641

Index Abdera 48 Achaia 136 Agesilaos 280, 401, 488, 499 Aghios Andreas 48 Agis 135

Alkmaion of Kroton Alyzeia 438 Amendolara 94-5 Amorges 497

agora

Amphissa 43 Amyklai 67, 68, 69, 75, 77 Amyklaion 68-9, 70, 75, 76, 77, 78 Anaktorıon 438 anaktoron at Pantalica 93

63

of Athens 256, 261, 262, 330 of Dreros 74 of Gortyn 72-3, 74, 78 of Laos 99 of Megara Hyblaia 101 of Metapontion 101 of Morgantina 103 of Thebes 404 Aigina 50, 252, 286, 455, 459, 483 Ailios Arısteides 48, 499 Ainaones

64

Aineias the Tactician 372 Ainos 589 Aiolis 44 Aischines 222, 250, 259, 468, 479-505 passim, 535, 541, 565, 567, 582, 588, 589, 590, 592 Aischylos 208, 210, 211, 212, 264, 320 Aithaleis 64 Akarnania 51 Akragas 94 Akraiphnion 399, 405 akropolis of Athens 237, 256, 330, 484, 485, 489, 526, 533, 529, 607 of Axos 73 of Dreros 73 of Rhodos 192 of Selinous 106 of Thebes 406 of Thisbe 51 Akroreia 144, 147, 149 Alexander of Makedonia 402 Alexander the Great 434, 437, 488, 489 Alexandria 238 Roman 25 Alipheira 138-9, 140, 141, 142, 148,

149 Alkaios 48 Alkibiades 127, 280, 282, 350, 371, 378, 465, 470, 471, 472, 490 Alkmaion, archonship of 447, 448, 456, 457, 459, 460

Amphipolis

Andokides Androtion

285-6, 287

44, 468, 490

332, 374, 376, 479-505, 601 349-50

Antalkidas 498, 500 Peace of 498, 499 Antigone 264 Antigonos Gonatas 514, 515 Antipater 489 Antiphanes 378 Antiphon 181, 208, 369, 569, 574, 575 Apatouria 214 Aphidas 64 Aphidnai 122, 123, 124-5, 126, 127 Apollo 66, 73-5, 211, 309, 470, 546, 550 Amyklaios 75, 77 Amyklos

69, 75

Delphic 73 Karneios 75 Apollodoros 591 Archelaos of Makedonia Archedios 64, 65 Archidamian War, the

Archidamos Areopagos

372 485, 486, 487

252 320, 338-9, 341, 348, 458,

494, 549, 573, 575, 581-95 Argos 75, 297-314, 490, 590 Aristeides 349 Aristophanes 223, 260, 340, 343, 368, 487, 489, 541, 557 Aristogeiton 341 Anstotle 42, 43-4, 236, 285, 308, 341, 342-4, 353, 375, 388-90, 391-3, 394, 401, 404, 408, 452, 523, 525, 548 Arkades (Krete) 64 Arkadia 25, 64, 67-8, 77, 78, 133-156, 422, 432 Arkadian-Eleian War 147 Arkas 64, 66, 140, 142, 145 Arnianos 488

644

INDEX

Autolaos 64, 65, 66 autonomia 239-40, 249, 251-2, 261-5, 406 autonomy 48, 238, 251, 252, 498, 500

Artaxerxes 442, 492, 498 Artemis Heleia 146

asebeia 544, 545 Asklepios 66 Aspendos 303, 488 asty of Axos 73 of Dreros of Gortyn

Axos Azan

Azania

73 68, 71, 72, 76

193

Polias

222

Athenai Diades

487

Athenian Empire 487

239, 363, 372, 486,

Athenaion Politeia

121, 235, 322, 363,

365, 447, 449, 451, 523, 553-6, 557, 563-4, 570, 573, 589 Athens

24, 123, 160, 164, 171, 184,

210, 222, 235, 237, 252, 265, 302, 304, 307, 316, 319, 367, 386, 400,

402, 403, 408, 409, 421, 424, 440, 491, 496, 499 and alliance of 420

66

Bacchylides Bendis 221 Bionnos 75

Athena 211, 222, 603 Ergane 98, 106 Lindia

73 64

Boiotia 43, 44, 123, 124, 127, 367, 368, 369, 397-417, 431-46, 456, 494, 500 boule 305, 442 at Athens 278, 328, 329, 330, 338, 340, 447-64 passim, 529, 587, 603 at Rhodos 185, 186 at Thebes 432, 435, 436 in Boiotia 403, 404-5, 435, 436 bouleuterion 608 at Gortyn 61 Brasidas Brauron

Butera

366-7 68, 609

95

Byzantion

304

and Philip II 468-9, 589-90 and Sokrates 541-52 aporoi at 390 archons of the 250s at 507-20 citizen population of 23 democratic restoration at 327-35 eupamdai at 212 granting of politeia at 426 hermsin 283 homicide law of 569-79

281

438, 439, 440

Campania 92 Catalogue of Ships 71, 181, 182, 183 census figures 24 Ceres 257 Chaironeia

399, 405, 406, 409

Chalke 193 Chalkis 455, 487 Charidemos

588

Charondas of Katane

386

Kleisthenic reforms at 447-64

Chersonese, Karian

lawcourts at 472, 553-62

Chersonese, Thracian 481, 482, 485 Chios 48, 322, 439, 440 Cicero 283

location of inscribed laws at

601-15

naval commanders of 318, 319 plague at 30 ‘politicians’ at 465-77 Rhodian defection from 178, 183 theatrical performances at 523-39 third-century AD circuit at 50 timesis at 391 trials at 563-8 Zeus Eleutherios cult at Athos 319

254, 255-60

Attika 23, 26, 31, 44, 45, 121-31, 220, 223, 229-30, 376, 378, 448, 449, 452, 454, 481, 486, 494, 544, 547, 550 Augustus 27,51

189

Crete, see Krete

Cyprus

69

Dareios

410

Deinarchos

479, 566, 567, 581-95

passtm Dekeleia 122, 123, 126, 127 Delian League, the

375

Delos 50, 571, 592 Aphrodision at 44 ekklesiasterion at 44 Delphi 140, 145, 164, 279, 281, 282, 442, 455

INDEX

Delphinion 575 Delphos 67-8 deme 229-30, 447-64 passim at Rhodos

of of of of

193

Atene 26 Dekeleia 124 Halai Aixonides Rhamnous 220

571

Demetnos of Magnesia

371

Demetrios of Phaleron

328, 330, 331,

333 Demetrios Poliorketes 259, 309, 329 democracy 256, 378 at Argos 297-314 at Athens 26, 277-96, 317, 327-35, 337-62, 363, 385, 523-39

Demosthenes

286-7

190, 332, 339, 440, 468,

567

dikasterion 553, 557, 558, 587 Dike 559 Diodorus Siculus 41, 45, 46-7, 171, 178, 181, 182, 187, 188, 192, 306, 308-9, 316, 437, 438, 439, 440, 492

Dion (Euboia} 487 Dion (Makedonia) 50, 51 249, 256, 259-60, 375, 510,

512, 523, 524, 526, 529, 535 Dionysios 46 Dionysios of Halikarnassos 440, 456, 460, 479, 480 Dionysos 249, 256-60 Eleuthereus 256, 258 Lysios 258, 259 Dioskouroi

Donoussa

338, 339, 340, 341, 342, 343,

608

Elateia

423, 426

Eleutherai 46, 256, 257, 258 eleutheria 249, 253, 257, 258, 260, 261-5 Elis 133-156, 286, 304, 590 Emborio 48 Empedokles 214 Epameinondas 43, 46, 401, 402, 432, 433, 436, 438-9, 440, 44)

Epeion 138, 148, 149 Epeiros 51 Ephesos 24, 50 Ephialtes 338, 344, 347, 348 Ephoros

178, 298, 439

Epidauros 298, 305

469, 479, 489, 491, 565, 581-95 passim Didymos 255, 499, 527-8, 536, 566,

Dionysia

ekklesia

Elatos 64 Eleusis 25, 44, 494

Demeter 257 Demetrias 50

on Samos 287 Demokedes of Kroton

645

332

48

Dorieus 178, 179 Drakon, law of 213, 569-70, 571-2,

573, 576, 601 Dreros 73 Dymanes 64, 70, 77, 163, 169, 170,

Epipolai, fortification of 46-7 Erato

64

Eratosthenes 597-600 Eretria 236, 259, 318, 487 Erinyes 210, 212 ergastera 91-120 Erythrai (Boiotia) 399 Erythrai (Ionia) 434 ethnicity 59-89 passim, 135-40, 141-46, 159-76 ethnics

city- 180-5 regional 181, 183 ethnos

162, 183

Etruria 92 Etymologicum Magnum 67, 299, 305 Euboia 123, 443, 481, 486, 487, 494, 590 Euboulos 468, 590 Eukrates 583 Euphiletos 575, 597-600 Euphron of Sikyon 431, 434, 436, 437 Euripides 209, 371 Eusebios

Eutresis

511, 515

399, 403, 405

Francavilla Marittima

95

298 Gela Egesta 497 Egypt Middle 28 Roman 27, 29

95-6, 113, 180-1, 182, 466

Gelon 488 Geraistion 67

Gnathia

96

Gonnoi

425, 426

646

INDEX

Gontsa

Hymn to Apollo 66, 73 Hymn to Hermes 572, 573 Hyperbolos 468, 471 Hypereides 255, 341, 479, 489, 566, 588, 589, 590 Hyria 96

50

Gortyn 59-89, 164, 166 Gortys 64, 65, 66, 77 Haliartos

51, 399, 405

Halios, see Helios Halos 50

Hysiai 399, 405

Harmodios & Aristogeiton 261, 262 Harpalos 581, 585, 591 Harpokrauon 479, 480 hegemon 190, 400, 406, 432, 433, 443 Hekataios 30, 136, 181 Hektor 162 Helios

182, 183, 187-8, 194

Hellanikos 371, 376 Hellenica Oxyrhynchia

417 passim

178, 190, 397-

Hellenion at Naukratis 184, 185 Hellespont, the 316, 500 Heraia 138 Heraion 298, 308

Herakleia Loukania

459

96, 111, 113

Herakleia Pontike 439 Herakleia under Latmos

Herakleides Kritikos

126

Herakleides Pontikos

259

43

Herakles 104, 221, 222, 223, 224, 298, 490, 571 Alexikakos 224 Hermaia 283 Hermes

herms

283-4

283

Herodes 365, 374 Herodotos 124, 126, 127, 138, 167,

180, 181, 182, 184-5, 211, 213, 250, 253, 254, 255, 265-6, 286, 367, 370, 371, 373, 386, 401, 407, 410, 441,

448, 450, 451, 452, 459, 480, 484 Hesiod 48, 67, 162, 572, 573 Hierapyma 65 Himera 97, 114 Hipparchos 407 Hismenias 435, 442 Homer 71, 141, 162, 163, 165, 168, 169, 181, 182, 208, 209, 318, 400,

559, 576 Homeric society 71 hoplites 24, 48, 163, 308, 316-7, 318, 319, 321, 400, 404 Hyakinthos 75 Hyettos

Hylleis

lalysos 177-205passim Idalion 75 Thad, the 48, 71, 135, 162, 264 Dion 27 Imbros 498, 499 Incoronata 97 Ion of Chios 264 Tonia 44 Iphikrates 220 Iphitos 142, 143 Isagoras 278, 448, 451, 454, 455, 456,

436

163, 169, 170, 298

j

Ischys 66 Isokrates 316, 374, 375, 438, 526, 588 tsonomria 249, 253, 261-5, 278, 279, 284, 285, 406-8, 409 Isthmia 279 Isthmian Games, the 282, 285 Jupiter Liber 257 Justinus 439 Kallias, Peace of 492

Kallikratidas 317 Kallisthenes 372 Kalymnos 50 Kamarina 98 Kambyses 441

Kameiros 177-205 passim Kanysion 98, 113 Kardamyle 422, 426 Kana 190, 423-5 Karyanda 425 Karystos

487

Kassandros 309, 328 Katane 497 Katre 64 Kentoripa 98 kerameikos 95, 96, 98, 103, 106, 108, 113 Kerkyra 286, 386, 473, 474 Kimolos

301

Kimon 320-3, 347, 348, 349, 351, 352, 469, 473, 481, 482, 483, 528

INDEX Klazomenai 48 Kleanthes 75 Kleisthenes 160, 230, 278, 285, 351, 405, 447-64 passim, 469 reforms of 164, 256, 409, 447 Kleomenes 278, 450, 453, 455, 458, 459 Kleon 340, 467, 468 Kleonai 309 Kleonymos 139 Klytaimestra 209, 211 Knidos 178, 439 Knossos 60, 65, 73, 75, 78, 300 Kolophon 392 Kommos

69

Konon of Athens 41, 45, 319, 497, 498 Konon (FGrHist 26) 67, 68, 75 Kopai 399, 405, 436 Kore 257

Korinthian War, the 400, 498, 500 Korinthos 51, 258, 405, 473, 474, 498 Koroibos

142, 143

Koroneia 399, 405 Korydalla 181 Kos 440 kosmoi at Gortyn 64 Krannon 489 Krataidas 68 Kratinos

530

647 Lato 75 Latosion 6] Lebadeia 399, 405 Leipsydrion 127 Lemnos 498, 499 Lenata 523, 524, 526, 534 Leon of Salamis 541, 548, 549, 550 Leontiades 435 Leontinoi 99 Lepreon 139, 141, 142, 144-6, 148 Lesbos 48 Leschanorios 77 lex sacra

207, 209, 211

Liber 257 Libera 257 Lindos 177-205 passim litourgy 284, 469-70, 472 Livy 51, 456 Lokris, East 148 Lokroi

96, 99, 111, 113

Lukian 531 Lydiades 138, 140, 142, 149 Lykaon 145 Lykia 188 Lykourgos of Athens 330-1, 582, 583 Lykourgos of Sparta 237, 385 Lykourgos son of Aleos 145-6 Lyktos 67, 68 Lysippos 530 Lysander 182, 192 Lysias 373, 387, 469, 479, 527, 575, 597-600

Krauppos 398 Krete 48-9, 59-89, 169, 545 Kretea 66-7 Kritias 365, 496 Kritios & Nesiotes 261, 263, 264 Kriton 543 Kroisos 211, 213, 441 Kroton 98, 285-6 Ktesiphon 568 Kydon 64, 65 Kydonia 64 Kyklades 44 Kyllene 133

Magna Graecis 114 Magnesis by Maiandros 423-4, 426 Makedonia 51 Makisteus 145 Makiston 140, 145 Malla 75 Mantineia 43, 49, 135, 304, 308, 404 Marathon 122, 320 Mardonios 125

Kynouria

masonry

Kyrene

136, 301, 309, 310

75, 209, 211

Lagaria 94 Lakonia 67, 69, 70, 78, 432 Lamian War, the 441 Laos 99 Larisa

Lasion Latium

44

135, 138, 143-4, 148, 149 114

41-3

ashlar 42, 43, 44 dry-stone 42 Lesbian 42, 44 polygonal 42, 43 pseudo-isodomic 42 rubble 42 trapezoidal 42, 45, 46 mastroi at Lindos 185 Mausolos 190, 440

INDEX

648 Medeon

42

Oaxos

Medma

100, 113

Odysseus 221, 318, 386 Odyssey, the 48, 69, 70-1, 76 Oiniadai 43 Old Oligarch, the 363-84 oligarchy 364, 385-96, 408, 410 at Athens 328

Megalopolis

43, 138, 139, 140, 142,

213 Megara 481, 482, 494, 545, 585, 590 Megara Hyblaia 92, 101 Meletos 545 Melos 67, 68, 302, 375, 486 Menelaos

71

nostos of 69 Messana Messene

101, 113 43, 590

Messenia

68, 136, 307, 368, 369, 422,

493

migration, Dark Age

65, 78

Miletos 27, 50, 367, 368, 369, 426 Miltiades 319, 481 Mindaros 178 Mithradatic Wars, the 50 Mnemosyne 221 Monte Bubbiona 102 Monte San Mauro

Montescaglioso

102

102

month

of Amyklaios 74, 75 of Elaphebolion 491, 492 of Hagneon 424 of Hekatombaion

of Karneios

Morgantina

508

74, 75

of Leschanioros of Palleon 423

at Miletos at Rhodos

365, 368 178

in Boiotia

365

Olympia 50, 136, 143, 146, 279, 280, 282, 286, 470

426 Messenian War, First 68 Messenian War, Second 67 Metapontion 101-2, 103 Metauros 93, 101

Methone

73

74, 75-6, 77

Olympic Games, the

141, 142, 143,

280, 282, 285, 371

Olynthos 488, 591

Onomakritos 386 Oppido Lucano 104 Orchomenos (Arkadia)

422, 426

Orchomenos

399, 403, 405,

(Boiotia)

406, 500 Oropos 122, 123, 124, 148, 332 Oreos 487 Orestes 210, 211, 213 Oxyrhynchos Historian, the; see Hellenica Oxyrhynchia Palladion

575

Pamphyloi 163, 169, 170, 298 Panathenaia 508, 510, 514 Panakton 490 Panionion 170

Panopeus

45-6, 606

Paros 50 Parthenon 556, 607 Pausanias Periegetes

45, 64, 66, 67,

122, 136, 139, 141, 142, 145-6, 252, 285

103

Mounychia 602, 605-6, 608 Mykenai 300, 301-2, 307

Pegai 481, 482

Mylasa

Peiraieus 374, 482, 483, 488, 548 wall at 41, 45, 482, 483, 601-15

Mylai 93, 101

425, 426

Pausanias the Regent

Peisistratos Naxos

Pelopidas

486

Naxos (Sicily}

103-4, 113

Nemea 279 Nemean Games, the Nestor 162, 163 Nikarete 30

Nike

282, 285

284

Nikias 467, 470, 471, 472, 490 Peace of 486, 487, 490 Nikopolis 51, 485, 486

251, 253

450

432, 442

Peloponnese, the 44, 302, 433, 437, 490 Peloponnesian League, the 436 Peloponnesian War, the 123, 144, 229,

251, 315, 318, 319, 343, 371, 403, 406, 466, 469 pentekontaetia 31 pentekostys at Argos 297, 300-01, 310 Pentheus 258 Perdikkas

493

INDEX

Perikles 121, 316, 320, 338, 347, 348, 350, 352, 369-70, 374, 387, 389, 402, 409, 465, 466, 467, 471, 473-4, 482, 550, 573 Persephone 257 Persian Debate, the

Persian Wars, the 265, 393 Phaistos 78 Pheia

407, 410-11

27, 254, 256, 260,

133

Pherai 43, 426 Pherekydes 209

Phigaleia 133, 145-6 Philip II 45, 49, 441, 468-9, 491, 492, 496, 582, 588, 589-90, 592 Philip V

136, 139, 140, 141, 145

Philippi 51 Philochoros 499 Philokrates 491, 496, 590 Peace of 491, 496

Philolacs 386 Phokion 341, 489, 588, 590 Phokis 45, 423, 589 phratria, phratry 159-176passim, 222, 223, 224, 297, 298-300, 307, 310, 472 Phrixa 138, 145, 148 phrouna 104 phylat 159-1 76passim at Argos 298 at Athens 447 at Gortyn 64-5, 166 at Rhodos

162, 177, 182, 189, 193

Phyle 121, 548 Pindar 66, 163, 181, 187, 261, 281-2, 386, 400, 401, 402 Pisatis 141, 143, 144, 147, 149

Pisticci 104 Pithekoussai 92, 104-5, 113 Plataiai 249, 251-2, 253, 254, 399, 406, 408 Plato 48, 63, 209, 213, 234, 316, 366, 367, 370, 388, 389, 390, 401, 402, 439, 485, 524, 551, 558 Pleistoanax 481, 494 Plutarch 67, 68, 280, 305, 321, 371, 400, 401, 432-3, 439, 466, 473, 474,

481, 483, 484, 485, 528-9, 592 Pnyx 588, 606 wall of 45, 46 politeia 186-7, 190, 329, 337, 338, 340,

341, 351, 374, 407, 426, 588, 589

649

politeuma 404 Pollis 67-8 Pollux 447, 457, 459, 460 Polybios 139, 142-3, 149, 367, 370 Polykrates 253, 286 Polysperchon 135 Pomarico Vecchio 105 Poseidon

490, 571, 607

Poseidonia 92 Praxiphanes of Mytilene 372 Prinias 60, 63, 77, 78 Prokles 491 Prometheus 489 proxenos 179, 185, 192, 438, 441, 481 prytaneion 229, 280, 330, 570 prytanis 179, 186, 435, 466, 468, 547, 549

Pseudo-Andokides Pseudo-Apollodoros

387 145

Pseudo-Skylax 142 Psophis 139, 142, 149 Psycheion 75-6 Pythian Games, the 281, 285 Pythion, see temple of Apollo Pythios Pyttalos 141 Rhadamanthys 63 Rhamnous 122 Rhegion 92-3, 113 Rhodes Rhodos

177-205 177-205, 439, 440

Roccagloriosa 105 Rome 26, 27, 28, 29, 257 sacred law, see lex sacra Sacred War, the 45, 49, 438, 442 Salamis 250, 319, 320, 321, 484, 550 Salapia 93-4 Samos 249, 253-5, 366 San Biagio 105-6 sanctuary, see also temple 62, 97, 103, 113, 212, 213, 332 at Kommos 63, 69, 76 at Olympia 149 at Prasidaki 146 of Alektrona 192 of Aphrodite at Lokroi 99 of Apollo 442 of Apollo Amyklaios 68 of Apollo at Bassai 67 of Apollo at Delphi 73 of Apollo at Gortyn 78

INDEX

650 of of of of

Apollo Delphinios 73 Apollon Lykaios 297 Apollo Pythios 59 Artemis 70, 76, 105-6

of Artemis Toxitis

of Asklepios 64 of Asklepios Pais

Strabo

182, 185

423

of Athens

of Malophoros

333

121, 214, 280, 378, 388, 541-

52 Solon 237, 253, 285, 385, 391, 469, 573 Sophokles 264 Sosipolis 135, 146-7 Souda 42) Sounion

123

Sparta 23, 43, 49-50, 67, 68-71, 164, 235, 252, 307, 385, 400, 470, 483, 488, 489, 490, 492, 493, 497, 498, 499, 500, 545, 547-8, 587

Stageira

44, 48

Syracuse

109, 111, 253, 254, 255, 318

107, 207

of Sosipolis 147 of the Chthonian Divinities 94 of Zeus at Lokroi 99 of Zeus at Olympia 133, 136 Sardis 44 Scomavache 106 Second Athenian League, the 190, 374, 375, 438 431, 433, 434, 437, 439, 440, 442, 443 Selinous 106-7, 113, 114, 207-216 Serra di Vaglio 107 Sicilian Expedition, the 183, 321, 471, 472, 497 Sicily 25 Sikyon 258, 297, 318, 434, 435 Simonides 281 Siphai 46, 409 Siris 97, 108 Skaphai 399 Skione 375 Skolos 399 Skyros 498, 499 Smyma 48, 236 Social War, the 438, 439, 440 Sokrates

127, 229

of Gortyn 51 of Megalopolis 67,189 _ of Rhodos 177-205passim

108, 109

of Demeter and Kore 78 of Herakles 221, 222 of Kodros, Neleus and Basile

141, 145, 449

Stratokles of Diomeia 330 Styra 487 Sybaris 108 synoikism, synoikismos 49, 50

64

of Athena 95 of Athena Kranaia

353, 364, 368, 394, 407

Stephanos of Byzantion 68, 181, 298 Stesichoros 208 Sthennis of Olynthos 141

68-69, 74

of Athana at Lindos

of Demeter

stasis

Tabai 50 Tainaron 68 Tanagra 405 Taras 68, 70, 75, 109 Tegea 66, 77, 499 Tegeates 63, 65 temple, see also sanctuary

at Hagios of Apollo of Apollo of Apollo of Apollo 74, 78

48, 62, 212

loannis 60 at Delphi 42 at Gortyn 74 Delphinios 73 Pythios 60-1, 62, 72, 73,

of Artemis

63, 68, 70, 71

of Mercurius 257 of Victoria 97 Tenedos 438 Termitio

109-10

Thargelia

523, 524

Thasos

44, 48, 50

theatre 528, 529, 533, 536 at Mounychia 601 at Rhodos 190 capacities 26 of Dionysos 26, 256 Thebes 258, 393, 400, 402, 404, 405-6, 408, 432, 436, 438, 489, 545 Thelpousa

64, 65, 66

Themistokles 250, 284, 320, 321, 471 decree of 250 Theomnestos 591 Theopompos 481 Thera 75 Theramenes 349, 393, 488, 548 Theseus

229

Thespiai 399, 403, 405, 409 Thessalonike 50

INDEX Thessaly 307, 365, 425-7 thiasos 222, 223, 224, 258 Thisbe 43, 46, 51, 399, 403, 405 Thounci

170-1, 178

Thrasyboulos 374, 438 Thucydides 24, 123, 126, 145, 178,

651 Triphylos 140, 142, 145, 169 mutys 300, 447-64passım, 469 Troizen 210, 250, 481, 482 Troy 386 Tylissos 75, 300 Tyrtaios 163, 367

179, 181, 182, 183, 208, 229-30,

251, 330, 394, 408, 480,

252, 350, 398, 441, 481,

265-6, 285, 305, 308, 318, 363-84, 386, 387, 393, 401, 402, 404, 406, 407, 465, 470, 471, 472, 473, 483, 485, 487, 497, 500

Tyche 535 Timaios 441

Timarchos Tiribazos

Tiryns

Xenokleides

591

Xenophantidas 182 Xenophon 41, 45, 49, 121, 138, 178, 181, 182, 192, 214, 363, 374, 404, 406, 431-2, 441, 442, 487, 490, 497, 497, 499, 500 Xerxes

265, 403, 434, 435, 436-7

588 498

303, 307

Torone 488 tribute assesament list 487 quota lists 24-25, 181, 183

Triphylia 136, 139-40, 141, 142, 144-6, 147-8, 149, 169

Zagora 48 Zaleukos 386 Zankle 93, 113 Zeus 66-7, 207, 211, 559, 572, 573 Elasteros 208 Eleutherios 249, 251, 253-60